


Guns and Knives

by MarcelinaRose



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Drama, Family Issues, Forbidden Love, Homophobia, Injury Recovery, Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, M/M, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rescue Missions, Sex, Tension, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2020-03-14 16:06:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18951472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcelinaRose/pseuds/MarcelinaRose
Summary: Marshall Rose and Morgan Black are your typical teens in love; the only difference between them and a normal teenager is they are the heirs to their respective mafias. The downside to that: Both mafias hate each other. Marshall and Morgan try to keep their secret for as long as they can before their fathers could tear them apart for good.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The ringing of the bell signaled to the students that lunchtime was upon them, and immediately the students rushed out of their classrooms and into their respective areas to eat and socialize with their friends. Many students headed to the cafeteria to grab early spots in the lunch lines or to various study rooms to catch up on their assignments. Teachers spend lunchtime by either eating or grading whatever papers they had left to grade.

However, there were two students who weren't spending their time eating or socializing.

Marshall dug fingers into Morgan's hair as he was pressed against the wall gently and their lips smothered together in a deep kiss. Marshall felt hands grab his hips and pull him closer, and his hands moved from the blonde's hair to the nape of his neck. The two of them hoped no one else had the idea to spend their time on the school roof or else they would be in for a sight. Occasionally, students would hang out on the roof to escape whatever harsh times they would come across in their lives in hopes of collecting themselves -today was just not one of those days- before returning to where they're supposed to be. Normally, there wasn't a way to get on the roof until a sophomore found a hidden stairwell a couple years back, and it had apparently been blocked off due to unknown reasons; when the staff found out, they told students not to get too carried away with the new discovery, but their efforts were futile as the students found the roof to be a new hiding spot.

Morgan pulled away from the kiss to glance at the caramel-skinned teen that held half-lid eyes and a light blush on his face. "This is your way of spending the lunch period?" He asked with a lifted eyebrow and smile.

"What else would I do?" Marshall responded by nuzzling the blonde sweetly with closed eyes and sighing happily when he felt Morgan pull him close.

The blonde kissed the top of his head in return and gently ran fingers though his hair. "Well, you could use it to work on some assignments." Marshall looked up at him and pouted, and Morgan knew what kind of response he would get. Whenever he wasn't busy, the ravenette would always find some way to be with him, regarding whether or not he was neglecting important work that needed to be done. Of course, Morgan scolded him for it, but somehow, Marshall always found a way to get his work done in so little time.

"That's no fun," Marshall placed his hands on the blonde's shoulders with a slight glare before softening his look. "I'd rather spend it with you," He glanced at the phone concealed in his pocket to check the time before turning his gaze back to his lover. "A couple more before the bell rings? Please?"

Morgan released a sigh as he shook his head with a smile. "You're lucky I love you." Marshall's eyes lit up as a grin spread across his face, jumping in place a couple times before slamming their lips together once again. He slightly stood on his toes to kiss him further, not caring about his glasses trying to fall off his face. However, before the blonde could lay a finger on him, the bell signaled for the students to return to their classrooms. The ravenette cursed to himself before pulling away and glaring at the door leading to the rest of the school with a pout. Morgan chuckled and gently took his hand. "Marsh, we gotta go."

"I know." The other teen muttered with a lowered head. Morgan led him towards the door where the two quietly made their way down the steps and into a hallway, and they were greeted by a crowd of students rushing to get to their classes. Lockers slammed shut along the way and a stampede of footsteps echoed across the floor as students chatted loudly. There were teachers standing outside their doors to make sure everyone was getting where they needed to be; the clocks spread across the walls indicated how much time the students had left.

Morgan pulled the ravenette towards a nearby wall near his classroom door so they could part ways. "Are we still going to your mom's place after school?" He asked.

Marshall nodded and took a quick glance at his classroom down the hall. "Yeah. Even we need a break from the mafia."

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile and a shrug as he nodded in agreement. "You do have a point." The ravenette giggled as a response before pecking his cheek lovingly. "Meet me at the front gate when the bell rings."

"It's a date then." Marshall stepped away from the blonde and waved as he strode towards his classroom, blowing a kiss to his partner before entering the room.

"What's with that grin on your face?" A voice called out to him from near the back of the room, and he turned to see his best friend, Ava, glancing at him with a smirk across her face. Marshall rolled his eyes and took the desk next to her and flipped through his notebook without a response. Ava kept the smirk on her face as she lodged a fist in her cheek. "Making out with Morgan again?"

"Having twisted fantasies about the football team again?"

The response earned him a slap upside the head and he only grinned in return as a blush covered her face and she hid in her notebook. "But you were with Morgan. I do know that. Aren't you scared?"

"Scared of what?"

"Well, everyone in the school knows who you both are, and it wouldn't be long before someone mentions it to your father that you're dating the son of his rival."

Marshall shot a glance at her for a moment before returning his gaze to his notes. "They know if they tell him, they're sleeping with one eye open," He responded. "Why? Are you thinking about telling him?"

"No, of course not," Ava quickly reassured before the stern gaze returned to her face. "But it's only a matter of time before he finds out. What then?"

The ravenette was silent as a response and he rested a clenched fist on the table. Ava glanced down and saw it slightly shake. "I don't want to think about it."

"Marsh-"

"I said I don't want to think about it." She heard his voice crack slightly, and it didn't take a genius to realize he was afraid. Ava gently squeezed his hand for comfort as the bell rang once again, signaling the beginning of another lesson. Marshall breathed out a sigh and shook off the worried look he had on his face, glancing over at the girl next to him to tell her not to worry. The rest of the lesson consisted of silence between them with Ava giving the ravenette an occasional glance of concern. Marshall would comfort her with a smile before returning his eyes to the front of the class.

* * *

Morgan leaned against the front gate as he glanced at his phone with half-lid eyes as students exited the school building while chatting loudly about their plans for the rest of the week. His bag was slung over his shoulder and he glanced at the front doors to see if Marshall had made his way through. Luckily enough, he spotted the ravenette waving good bye to Ava, and his eyes lit up when he saw the blonde. Automatically, he ran towards the gate with a smile spread across his face and jumped into Morgan's arms while pecking his cheek with kisses. Both of their bags drop to the concrete and the two spent a moment sharing a couple kisses and ignoring the glances given to them. Morgan pulled away despite Marshall continuously pecking his lips. "It's only been a few hours since we last saw each other." He said with a chuckle.

"It felt like ages." Marshall whined while trying his best to press against the blonde. Morgan shook his head with a smile before grabbing both of their backpacks and leading the ravenette towards his car. Marshall sat himself in the passenger seat with a smile as his lover took hold of the wheel. He kept a gentle hand on the blonde's thigh as they exited the school's parking lot and onto the street in front of them. The ravenette stroked light circles with his thumb with lowered eyes as he drove, passing various shops as they made their way towards the suburban area.

Morgan sighed as a result. "You can't keep your hands off me, can you?"

"I'd like people to know what's mine."

"I'm not an object."

Marshall frowned at the response and nuzzled his arm. "I know," He muttered before glancing up at him. I'm just possessive. I see the look girls give you."

"Yeah. They wish they were you." Morgan chuckled as they pulled up to a two story house that sat on a corner.

Parking the car, the duo grabbed their bags as Marshall held the house keys tightly. They made their way up the stone walkway and Marshall noticed the blonde's car was the only one in sight. "Mom must be out." He concluded with a shrug. He unlocked the front door and was greeted with a neatly cleaned living room. Morgan barely had time to close the door behind him before the ravenette surprised him with another kiss. Intertwining their fingers, Marshall led him towards the staircase leading to the second floor.

Morgan kept his arms tightly locked around the ravenette's waist while his head was perched on his shoulder with a half-lid gaze as Marshall's fingers rapidly mashed the buttons on his controller. The enemies on the TV screen were being destroyed endlessly, although it didn't faze the two at all. Morgan nuzzled the other teen with closed eyes and kisses his cheek, and Marshall pressed against him as a response. Both of them perked up when they heard a woman's voice down the hall. "Marshall? Where are you, honey?"

"We're up here, Mom!" Marshall called out before turning off his game.

The two heard faint footsteps draw closer, and the bedroom door opened to reveal a middle-aged woman with a striking resemblance to the ravenette; her hair was tied in a low bun, and the knee-length dress she wore showed off the heel boots she had on her feet. "It's nice to see you again, Morgan." She greeted sweetly.

"Nice to see you too, Ms. Rose," Morgan replied with a smile, slowly unwrapping his arms around the other teen as he leaned back against the bed. "I'm surprised you're not wondering why I'm here."

"Marshall told me this morning you were coming over," Marshall's mother replied with a hand on her hip. "Even if he didn't, I knew you would be here sooner or later."

Morgan scratched the back of his head with a sheepish look while Marshall averted his gaze with a light blush and a smile, slightly nodding in affirmation of his mother's words. "You know us too well, huh."

"Son, you've loved this boy since you came out of the closet," Her response caused him to blush further, and he held Morgan's hand as a result. His mother's smile only widened as she continued to speak. "Don't think I don't know what you two get into. Like sneaking into his bedroom every other night," She almost laughed at the surprised expressions they held, almost as if they were asking themselves how they were caught. Instead, she chuckled and waved her hand. "Don't worry. You're not in trouble for it. But you do need to be more careful, Morgan."

"I will, Ms. Rose."

"That's good," The two noticed her gaze had softened and saw the saddened look on her face. "Marshall, your father called for another job. He says he'll be here in an hour to pick you up."

Marshall frowned in return and his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He gave Morgan a saddened look before averting his gaze towards the floor. "Guess you better get going, huh." He muttered.

"Yeah." Morgan replied sadly. The two stood from the floor and slowly made their way downstairs with intertwined fingers. The demeanor in the air took a major shift, and no longer felt as light-hearted as it was. Morgan brought Marshall's knuckles to his lips and kissed them gently for comfort, but it did little to ease his mind.

They reached the front door, and Marshall was hesitant to pull away while one of Morgan's hands was already wrapped around the door handle. The blonde smiled and cupped his cheek with his free hand, and Marshall immediately grabbed his wrist to keep it there. "I'd rather you not go." He whined.

"But I'd rather not get a knife lodged in my throat," The ravenette averted his gaze, knowing that was the most possible outcome if his father saw the blonde. "I'll see you later, alright?" The smaller teen nodded and turned his gaze back to the blonde, forcing himself to smile. "Love you."

"Love you too." After a lingering peck on the lips, Morgan turned the handle and opened the front door so he could exit the house. Marshall waved at him and stayed in the door frame until the blonde's car was out of sight. He released the breath he was holding in before making his way back upstairs to prepare for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sun was half-set over the horizon when Marshall saw a black car pull up into the driveway as he adjusted the gloves covering his hands. Pushing up his glasses, he began to step towards the front door before hearing his mother call his name softly. Marshall turned around to see his mother with a troubled expression, and the sad look in her eyes caused him to frown out of guilt. Walking a few steps towards her, he pulled her into a comforting hug, and she didn't hesitate to return it. "Be careful tonight, alright?" She asked before kissing his cheek. "Try not to do anything to aggravate him."

"I won't," Marshall's gaze averted towards the floor, his face devoid of any emotion, but the look in his eyes wasn't able to fool anyone. Giving his mother another tight hug, the ravenette turned on his heel and walked to the door, giving her a final look of comfort. "I'll be alright. Promise." However, the second he opened the door, he was face to face with the man waiting for him: he was tall, almost towering over his son, and had dark brown hair and eyes with slight stubble complimenting his jawline. He had a lighter skin tone than the teen, and the stern expression he wore made him seem intimidating to approach.

Marshall quickly lowered his head and placed his hands behind his back with pursed lips. "Good evening, Father." He greeted softly, refusing to meet the man's cold gaze.

His father was silent for a moment and kept his gaze on the teen. "Lift your head when talking to your elders, boy." Marshall slowly looked up, the expression on his face remaining unchanged as he nodded. His father stepped passed him and headed towards his mother, and Marshall saw his gaze soften. After a quick kiss and whispering comforting words, he stepped away from the woman as the cold expression returned, and he proceeded to walk outside towards the car. Marshall waved at his mother before following the man and closing the front door behind him.

Marshall leaned against the window with half-lid eyes and a frown, his phone clutched in his lap in case Morgan sent him a text wishing him luck on his mission. His father remained silent as he drove, not saying a word to the teen as the sun disappeared under the mountains, allowing the moon to become visible in the sky. The radio was at a low volume and barely audible to either party, but neither of them bothered to care.

Sure enough, Marshall felt his phone vibrate, and he glanced down, making sure to turn the screen away from his father's peripheral vision, before spotting the text from the blonde.

_[Good luck on the job. Hope everything goes well. Call me when you get back. Love you!]_

The ravenette couldn't help but smile and send out a quick response before placing his phone back in his lap face down. He released the breath he was holding in and relaxed his shoulders as he leaned back into his seat. His heart swelled and fluttered in his chest, and a light blush made itself known on his cheeks.

"What's with that smile on your face?"

His frown returned at his father's words, and he turned his gaze towards him with furrowed brows. He kept his phone out of sight, slipping it between the seat and the door. "I was thinking about Ava," He lied before lowering his head. "I was thinking about how she has an easier life than I do." Marshall heard a quiet sigh from the man, and he knew what he was about to hear. He couldn't remember not hearing the speech whenever he compared his lifestyle to other people. He slumped in his seat with a tilted head, awaiting the words he's always dreaded to hear.

"She could never have the luxury of being in our position," His father began, not taking his eyes off of the road. "We're one of the most powerful families in the country. Even the smaller gangs fear what we could do to them. For the most part, we are free to do whatever we wish with little consequence. If anything, she has the harder life by being tied down by the restricting laws surrounding her. What a shame it is. She could have avoided this once she became your wife."

Marshall choked on his breath and coughed as a result, the thought of marrying Ava leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Not because he wasn't straight, but because he never had the idea of spending the rest of his life with the pinkette despite all of the years they've spent together. He fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat and turned his head away from his father again. If there was one flaw of his father's that he despised, it would be his overwhelming sense of pride as a mafia boss. Marshall tended to call the man a hypocrite for not wanting to admit that he followed laws like the rest of the country did. Boasting about his occupation was a favorite hobby of his, and Marshall could recall countless times where he overheard his father at a couple parties going on and on about how being in a mafia has its perks, and he knew guests were never thrilled to hear those stories.

He was snapped out of thought when the car came to a stop in the middle of a forest clearing. The sun barely peaked out from a mountain while the rest of the sky was a dark blue with a few stars making themselves known. In front of him, Marshall saw a pair of black cars with a small group of men standing around them dressed in black suits. He followed his father out of the car, and his father approached the men with open arms. "Gentlemen, I'm glad to see you could make it." He greeted happily as the teen followed closely behind him.

As they went over their plans for the night, Marshall leaned against one of the black cars with crossed arms and furrowed brows, not caring about whether or not he was being filled in on the mission. He knew it had something to do with the Twilight Mafia, and knowing that much made him care less. As long as he could remember, he never knew why the two families hated each other, and even his mother was left in the dark about the situation. At one point, he deemed the rivalry unnecessary and wanted it to be over. Marshall still had no idea how he was able to hide his relationship for so long, but he decided not to question it as long as it remained that way.

"Are we clear, Marshall?" The teen's head shot up at his father's voice and saw the group of men giving him expected glances. Marshall only nodded despite hearing half of the conversation, although he knew he could follow the others' lead and not be lost. His father signaled to the men to advance, and Marshall was about to follow suit until he was stopped by a blade held in front of him. He glanced up to see that his father's stone gaze hadn't faded. "Do not fail me tonight." He muttered with furrowed brows.

Marshall's gaze lowered and he slowly took the knife, his fingers wrapping around the hilt before making his way behind the group of men. They sneaked through the trees, barely making a sound save from the crunching of leaves and branches under their feet, and the moon rose above them and gave them more light to see their surroundings. Marshall stayed near the back, but not back enough to be left behind from the group. Uncertainty slowly grew in his chest as he thought of the multiple outcomes that could happen when the mission was over, a good portion of those outcomes involving he or his father either being captured or killed.

The ravenette lifted his head to gaze at the sky, wondering what his lover was up to now that they were apart. Of course, he wasn't allowed to tell Morgan what happened. Although, he knew for a fact that even if the mission went well, his father would find some excuse to criticize him and ruin his night further. Marshall groaned as a result, but silenced himself immediately when he saw his father give him a glare. He avoided the man's gaze and kept his eyes towards the ground, not saying another word for the rest of the journey.

Marshall saw the group stop, and he saw a large building hidden in the trees in front of them, wondering what his father had dragged him into as he shook his head with a quiet sigh. Slowly, he followed the group towards the outside of the building, keeping out of sight from the security cameras perked at the entrance. His father signaled for the men to shoot the cameras down. With a few sparks resulting from the gunshots, the cameras crashed onto the ground and the men were signaled to head to the front door with their weapons ready. Marshall was about to get into position until his father stopped him before he could make a move. "You will stay by my side until the mission is over. Do not go off on your own."

Marshall grimaced in response, but nodded nonetheless. That decision just proved to him that his father didn't trust him enough to do anything by himself. Marshall frowned and kept near the man with an averted gaze, waiting for him to signal once again. There was a pause, and then doors were thrown off hinges, and a flurry of footsteps and gunshots were the only sounds in the area. Not missing a step, Marshall followed his father through the wave of bullets and shouts and made his way through a small corridor with a few other suited men. "I don't think I was told the reason why we're doing this." He spoke up cautiously with a lifted eyebrow, keeping his blade close to his chest.

His father glanced behind him, and the teen saw that the scowl on his face had yet to disappear; whether that scowl was directed at him or not, he didn't know. "The only reason we're here is to weaken our enemy," He responded coldly. "I refuse to let anyone take our place at the top of the food chain, so the best way is to make sure they don't have the chance," Marshall had to stop himself from grimacing at his response and had to keep his mouth shut from saying anything, knowing he was going to be yelled at. He only nodded as a result before the small party stopped at a corner. The teen felt a hand being placed on his shoulder, and his father nodded at him to make a move. Marshall was surprised; his father never allowed him a kill so early in the mission.

Marshall made his way to the front of the group, peeking around the corner to see a guard with his back turned to them and whistling a light-hearted tune. With inaudible steps, the teen snaked across the floor, his knife ready to strike his opponent. In an instant, he slapped a hand over the guard's mouth, yanking him backwards so he could have a better aim. Before the guard could make a sound, Marshall wrapped an arm around his neck so he could drive the blade into his chest, clinging to the man like a koala until he fell forward with a loud thud. Marshall pulled away immediately and scampered back to his father in the shadows. His father gave him a small smirk of approval, and it gave the teen a slight boost of confidence.

The mission was going rather smoothly, and Marshall was surprised they weren't running into any sort of trouble. As the night went on, his father had grown more impressed with his work, and he had hope as to how the night would conclude. However, that hope was walking across a tightrope as his father still wouldn't allow him to leave his side. He didn't fully know the reason, but he mainly boiled it down to trust and he wasn't even sure if that was the reason. He hadn't had a full conversation with his father since his early teenage years, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to after the last conversation they had.

Marshall released another sigh as they came across another hallway with a large door on the other end, wondering how long the mission will continue. He kept his spot at the corner of the hall and waited patiently for instructions before feeling a hand push him forward. He jerked his head behind him to see his father keep his stoic face and place a hand on his shoulder. "Go inside. We'll keep watch here."

Marshall couldn't stop a look of disbelief appearing on his face. He almost didn't want to believe what he heard. There had to be a catch to it; he couldn't see it any other way. Maybe he was being tested by the elder or he was the last option. Either way, he had a bad feeling about his father's decision. Nevertheless, the ravenette nodded and darted towards the door as quickly and quietly as he could before slowly pushing it open.

Behind the door was a small study that seemed to contrast the rest of the building. Marshall closed the door behind him, not needing to be told what to look for because he would have been asked for the same thing: something to use against the enemy. He stepped around the room, glancing at the bookshelves and looking through every nook and cranny he could find to make sure he didn't miss anything. He was half-tempted to look on the computer for something, however, he knew there was a password securing it, and he knew better than to try and figure it out. The teen froze when he reached the desk, his gaze softening immensely. He spotted a small frame with a photo of Morgan standing in front of the gates leading to their high school with a calm smile on his face. Marshall gently picked up the photo, a light blush forming on his cheeks, before kissing it sweetly and holding it close. He paused for a moment before opening the frame and neatly folding up the photo before placing it in his back pocket. Before opening the door, he shook off his blush and returned his face to its normal deadpan look.

"Did you find anything?" His father asked as he entered the hallway once again.

Marshall placed his hands behind his back and shook his head. "There was nothing useful," He responded, partially telling a lie. "It was a waste of time," A couple of his fingers dipped into his pocket to feel the photo once again before pulling away. "Are we done here?"

"There's one more room we need to check," His father replied before turning to the other men in their party. "My son and I will check the final room. The rest of you head back to the entrance."

Marshall lifted an eyebrow as he watched them leave before turning to the elder. "What makes you think there's something else?"

"You never leave a stone unturned." His father responded while stepping down a nearby hall. There were faint gunshots, although Marshall didn't exactly know where in the building they were coming from. What mainly mattered to him was getting the job done and over with so he could return home, and depending on how he felt when the mission was over, call Morgan. Although, he had a feeling he would call the blonde either way for emotional support. An unpleasant feeling began to creep up on him, and the confidence that he held for the night had almost completely disappeared. He lowered his head with a troubled gaze and held his knife close to his chest.

Standing before the two was blood splattered across the walls and a door that was blocked by a few corpses. Marshall couldn't tell if they were allies or enemies, but decided to not worry about them. He cautiously stepped towards the door after his father, who gave him a glare that told him to stay clear of what might happen. The teen nodded despite still feeling unsure before the man took another step forward, and slowly pushed open the door.

The two were greeted with a wave of gunfire, and they immediately dodged the attack. Marshall attempted to catch his breath, and he glanced over to see his father disappear through the doorway. "Wait a minute-" He was cut off by the sound of more gunshots and peered inside to see the man against three men in suits, each of them sporting various injuries. The teen had began to wonder how they were still standing, although knew it had something to do with refusing to die or something akin to it. He contemplated letting his father handle them alone since he wasn't having trouble, but he also felt as though he should step in to not let his father believe he was a coward.

Once one man was killed, Marshall rushed forward to tackle a second to the ground and lifted his knife to drive into the man's chest. However, he was immediately shoved to the floor and was quick enough to dodge a bullet headed straight for his head. He quickly got to his feet and made sure to put some distance between them before lunging for another attack. Instead of charging towards him like the man predicted, Marshall darted behind him and jumped on his back. Hooking his arms and legs around him, he held the other in a tight lock with one arm while driving his knife into the man's shoulder. He felt the man stagger and stumble backwards.

Marshall almost lost his grip, but he was soon given a headbutt and his arms were yanked free. He fell on his back with a thud, wincing on impact before dodging another attack. He held his nose with a groan, knowing there was blood but not having time to think about it. Letting his nose run, he tried to focus on the task at hand. He clutched his knife tighter before he lunged forward, eyes narrowing to have a better aim for his target. He swiped at the man before he dodged, grateful that he was lucky enough to draw blood, before he was kicked off of his feet. Marshall landed on his back harder this time, and when he looked up, he saw the man towering over him with a gun pointed at his head.

A memory came flooding back to him, reminding him of a similar situation, and he froze in place as a result. His pupils shrunk in fear and he couldn't stop himself from shaking. He felt his heart pounding in his chest and the knife slipped through his fingers. The man in front of him had been replaced by a figure from his past, the air around him was filled with the sound of muffled gunshots and shouting. At once, Marshall acted on instinct and curled into a tight ball, not wanting to be reminded of the first time he was in that situation.

The vision shattered when a closer gunshot was heard and Marshall found himself in a familiar setting. He lowered his head to see that the man who was towering over him was dead on the floor. His father stood over the man with a glare as he lowered his gun before turning to face his son. Marshall didn't have time to react as he was grabbed by his shirt collar and hoisted to his feet roughly. "Somehow, this doesn't surprise me," He scowled. "I don't know why I bother getting my hopes up."

"Father I-"

"You will remain silent while I take you home." Marshall bit his lip and lowered his gaze as he was pulled out of the building, barely hearing his father give orders to the other men in the group. His heart sat in his stomach and he avoided eye contact with the people around him. He was practically thrown into his father's car before they drove off, and for a moment, he swore his heard the man mumble about disappointment, and he almost felt tears prick his eyes. He glanced at his phone to see it was sometime after 10:00 before leaning against the window with a quiet sigh.

The moment Marshall exited the car, his father drove off without another word, leaving him alone on the front porch. He slumped his shoulders and turned on his heel, barely able to reach towards the door before it slowly swung open with his mother on the other side with a concerned but comforting look. Marshall closed the door behind him once he was inside before collapsing against the door and bursting into tears. He felt his mother's arms around him in an instant, hearing her whisper soothing words in his ear and petting his hair. Marshall just held onto her and poured out the emotions he couldn't show around his father in fear of what he would say.

It took almost half an hour for his sobs to be reduced to sniffles, although tears still ran down his face. His mother pulled away and softly cupped his cheek. "I'll make you some tea. Just the way you like it." Marshall's response was only a nod before he slowly made his way to the stairs. Once he was in his room, he stripped his clothes in exchange for something more comfortable before crawling on his bed, phone in hand. He wiped the remaining tears from his eyes, scrolled through his contacts for a moment, and placed the phone to his ear.

"Morgan, I need you."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

With a blank gaze, Morgan waved at the security guard standing in front of his family's parking garage before stopping in front of him. He sighed and leaned back as the guard peered through the car windows to see if there was anything suspicious. Morgan hated having to do this every day; it's not like he really had anything to hide in his car to begin with, and he wished his family was excluded from the search. Morgan glanced at his phone for a potential message from the ravenette only to be disappointed to not receive one. Once he was given the all clear, he drove further into the lot and parked in his usual spot.

It took no time for him to grab his things and take the elevator towards the penthouse that sat on the top floor. Morgan sighed as he readjusted his backpack as he stepped down the hall towards his flat with a lowered head. To him, being part of the mafia wasn't exactly a terrible thing: he was able to live a comfortable life, get whatever he wanted, and learn how to defend himself. However, the expectations were high, and the amount of times he was kidnapped for the sake of power or money was endless. There were members who didn't believe Morgan wasn't cut out to be the successor and thought the title should be given to someone else. Although, Morgan's father wanted to prove them wrong, which made the expectations higher than ever.

The moment Morgan opened the door, he let out a groan, dropping his bag next to the loveseat and kicking off his shoes before collapsing face-first on the couch. He hugged one of the pillows and buried his face into it with a frown. Morgan was still for a few moments, calming down after the day he had, before raising his head. "Guess I better start before I forget."

After changing into a t-shirt and jeans, Morgan grabbed his bag and sat at the foot of the couch before pulling out a textbook and papers and setting them on the table in front of him. His eyebrows furrowed at the work in front of him, lodging a fist in his cheek as he tapped his pencil against the book. He occasionally glanced at his phone for a distraction, but to no avail. Nonetheless, he sat in silence, figuring it was better than waiting for anxiety to creep up on him.

Morgan heard the door open, but he didn't look behind him to see who it was. He first thought it was the butler coming in to clean the flat or check on him, or it was his father momentarily coming by to look for something. However, the moment he heard jingling keys, he knew it wasn't either option. He turned his head and immediately smiled at the sight of his mother, a woman with blonde hair and green eyes, standing over him with a calm expression. "You're late again today. I thought you would be at Marshall's longer."

"His dad gave him another job, so I had no choice but to leave," Morgan leaned back against the couch with a slump as the woman sat next to him, leaning over to glance at his homework. "Unless I actually wanted to challenge the head of the Vanità myself, in which case I'd definitely get my head on a platter."

"I can imagine that being a literal outcome. You put the x in the wrong spot," Morgan saw the spot she was pointing on the paper and quickly fixed the mistake and looked at his textbook once again. His mother tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and softened her gaze. "Although, I am worried about the two of you and how long you'll be able to keep this up."

"We've been hiding it for two years."

"Yes, I know, but for how much longer?"

Morgan paused and furrowed his brows, slowly setting his pencil down with a quiet sigh. "About a couple months ago, we decided to tell them when we turned 18 since that was when we're given all control of both mafias. We figured if we told them then, they couldn't do anything."

"And if they find out before?"

Morgan's breath hitched at the question as a million thoughts ran through his mind. He was asked the question a few times before so it shouldn't be new to him. But, every time he would have a voice in the back of his head telling him he couldn't keep the secret as long as he wanted to and telling him there would be consequences to both him and Marshall. Normally, the thought would be either his father forcefully transferring him to a different school or homeschooling him all together, but other thoughts involved violence and most notably death. He shuddered visibly, causing his mother to place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it comfortingly. "I don't like thinking about it," He finally responded. "I always end up imagining the worst because of the lengths he'll go."

The teen felt arms wrap around him and didn't hesitate to return his mother's hug. The two of them sat in silence as the woman kissed the top of his head sweetly before pulling away. "Are you sure you don't want me to talk to him?" She asked in a soft tone.

Morgan shook his head with a pained smile. "Not now. Not until I'm sure he won't go nuts," He then started to put his work back into his bag, not having the motivation to continue working on it and wanting something else to distract him. He stood from the floor and stepped towards a small safe that was embedded in the wall, inserting a code before the door clicked. Morgan opened the door to reveal a small rack of keys on separate hooks. He grabbed one of the keys before closing the hatch and heading towards the front door out of the flat. "I'll be on the training floor if you need me."

"Be careful." Morgan gave his mother a reassuring smile before closing the door behind him, leaning against it with a sigh for a moment before heading towards the elevator with a lowered head. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that his mother was right. It was only a matter of time before his father found out about he and Marshall, and it was almost impossible to know what exactly the punishment would be. While he hoped it was nothing major, but he had plenty of doubts.

The elevator doors dinged and Morgan watched the numbers decrease on the screen above him after inserting the key. His hands were tucked in his pockets as he leaned against the wall with a deadpan gaze. He couldn't shake off his mother's question, and it made him worried about what could happen. He sighed with a lowered gaze, glancing down at his phone to see a few texts from Marshall that caused him to smile. He sent out a quick response before the elevator doors opened, and he grabbed the key and stepped onto the floor.

In the span of an hour, Morgan had gone through simulation after simulation and nothing had helped him clear his head. No matter how many targets he shot down, no matter how many foam bullets he dodged, he couldn't stop himself from imagining what could happen to him or Marshall. A foam bullet almost grazed his cheek as he reloaded and cocked his gun, rolling a safe distance away before firing at another target. He panted as a result, almost tripping over his feet as he shot the last remaining target in the room. Relaxing his shoulders for a moment, he lowered the gun to his side and glanced around the room filled with fake pellets scattered across the floor. Morgan winced due to the pain in his legs and abdomen, knowing he didn't come out of the exercise unscathed and there were at least a few bruises where the rounds hit him.

"Wasn't expecting to see you," Morgan turned around to see a woman only a few years older than him with dark brunette hair tucked behind her ear and lime green eyes they both shared. She briefly glanced at her phone before turning back to the blonde with a half smile. "At your friend's again?"

"I was helping her with homework."

"Oh? It's a girl?"

"None of your business, Samantha." Morgan placed his gun back where it belonged before stepping out of the training room and back to the elevator. He had to hide a growing scowl as the woman followed closely behind him humming a light-hearted tune with her hands behind her back. Morgan couldn't help but feel slightly tense around his cousin, given her gossip-like nature. It was hard to trust Samantha regarding anything she said out of her mouth, and it was also hard to rely on her to keep a secret. The two of them weren't exactly close due to Morgan knowing of her reputation before they even met, but their relationship took a nosedive a few years before. Samantha had originally stayed with them due to her own parents constantly being on business trips, but she decided to stay at the base the moment she turned 18 despite having the option to stay with her parents; she was also the one the employees wanted the inheritance for instead of her cousin.

"Auntie told me to tell you that dinner was ready, by the way," She spoke up once they entered the elevator back to their flat. "I was just about to tell Uncle."

"Then why are you going back with me?" Morgan couldn't help but snap as he crossed his arms.

"I can't check on my baby cousin?" Samantha asked with a grin, leaning in closer to his face with a tilted head. "Someone has to hear all of your woes and worries."

"I'm not telling you anything after you forced me out of the closet." Morgan's tone was cold and the scowl on his face had evolved into a hard glare despite avoiding eye contact from the brunette. He gripped his arms tightly with a lowered head, not allowing Samantha to see his face no matter how hard she tried. Eventually, she pulled away with a huff and glanced at the numbers above them as the two spent the rest of the trip in silence.

Morgan stormed into the apartment and almost slammed the door in his cousin's face if she wasn't so close behind him. His mother peered into the room with a lifted eyebrow but decided not to question as Samantha sent a quick text before looking over at her blonde cousin with a smirk. "I got a story to tell, Auntie. I'll wait for Uncle to show up." The blonde woman's face slightly paled as a result, turning to her son briefly before heading back into the kitchen to make sure the stove didn't burn. After a moment, Morgan's glare lifted and he stepped down the hall towards the bathroom, wanting to wash the day away with a hot shower.

Once the water hit his face, Morgan sighed and leaned his head forward with closed eyes. Feeling the water spray his back felt refreshing, and it was almost enough to relax him. Morgan pulled his hair back in silence, tilting his head with a quiet moan as he ran his fingers through blonde threads. He let his mind wander for a bit, feeling the tension in his body fade as it relaxed instinctively. Morgan's thoughts soon drifted to whatever Marshall could be doing, and an image appeared in his mind: the two of them were alone in his bedroom, and for once, Morgan didn't question why they were in his room to begin with or how they got there in the first place. He imagined Marshall underneath him on his bed, both of them not being able to keep their hands off of each other as their lips pressed together aggressively. Clothes were practically ripped off, and marks were made as Morgan trailed his way down the other's body and between his legs, nipping the inner thigh and causing Marshall to cry out a moan. The imagery was so vivid, Morgan thought he was reliving a flashback; even the way Marshall breathed out his name was almost too real.

Unfortunately, Morgan snapped out of his fantasy once he realized his body was reacting to it. Glancing down, he saw an erection pressed gently against his torso, the tip flushing red and a bead of precum resting at the slit. Morgan felt somewhat embarrassed; for the past year and a half, he never exactly felt the need to masturbate with a partner like Marshall. On the other hand, he was just like any other hormonal teenager who would rather break their partner's bed than go to school. It wasn't like he was hurting anyone, and he knew for a fact the Italian probably did the same when he wasn't around.

Morgan shuddered the moment his fingers wrapped around his length gently, giving it a slight tug before giving himself a slow pace. He tried to conjure up another image in his head: this time they were in one of the janitor closets at their high school with Marshall on his knees in front of him staring up at him with those hazel brown eyes he always seems to get lost in. Morgan had to bit his lip to stifle a moan as he ran a thumb against the underside of his dick, copying the other's actions and just reminding him how long it had been since he had any sort of pleasure; the three months of summer vacation were filled with constant kisses and touches, slipping in a few hand jobs or blow jobs (or occasionally a round or two) if they had the chance. The last time they had a chance of sex was the first day of the semester celebrating the beginning of their senior year. Afterwards, the two were busy with school and family matters and never had the time.

As Morgan's pace quickened, he felt his hips thrust forward as a result, keeping the image of Marshall blowing him in his mind. His breath became ragged as he saw Marshall's hand grip the base, causing him to curse quietly with a furious blush on his face. He paused for a minute to press a nail into the slit, causing him to jolt as a response and it almost caused him to cum on the spot. Morgan released a breath as he resumed his pace, almost doubling over at Marshall giving him a seductive gaze in his thoughts. The heat in his gut was almost boiling and he wasn't going to last long. Morgan decided to make this quick before his family realized how long he was gone.

He aimed for faster and rougher strokes because it wasn't the time for style or finesse, and it was one of the rare ways Marshall handled him. Normally, it was slow and drawn out with endless teasing that made both of them melt. He thought of the ravenette once again, and just seeing the two of them make eye contact while Marshall was still on his knees with a dick in his mouth caused him to lose it. Morgan had to lean on the wall for support, lowering his gaze to the splatter of cum on his chest and torso that was slowly being washed away.

It took him no time to clean himself and step out of the shower, exiting the bathroom wearing a tank top and sweatpants and noticing the smell of dinner down the hall. He stretched and threw on his jacket before hearing a male voice coming from the kitchen. Holding in a breath, he stepped inside the kitchen and came face to face with his father: a middle-age man with matching brown hair and eyes and the same pale skin as the blonde teen. There was a thin line of stubble along his jaw, and he had a semi-athletic build to him. Once Morgan took a step in the door, his parents paused their conversation to glance at him. "Morgan, it's good to see you." His father piped up cheerfully.

Morgan gave him a wave as he grew a half-smile before tucking his hands in his jacket pockets. "Hey, Dad. Did you just get back?"

"Yes. I received a message from Samantha on my way here," Morgan shrugged to hide his frown as he leaned against the wall with a lowered gaze, briefly spotting his cousin in the living room. His mother gave him a gentle gaze before walking passed him to set up the dinner table. His father soon made his way towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I hear that you're training has improved. If so, I'd like to see for myself how you've changed."

"I wouldn't mind having you watch." Morgan's mood was slightly lifted, but it wasn't enough to completely lower his guard. He wouldn't exactly say the relationship between he and his father was tense, but he had a much closer relationship with his mother. While the expectations were high, his father never pressured him into rushing to improve his craft and simply allowed him to engage in whatever he enjoyed. This was something Morgan tended to appreciate from time to time, and his father respected him for wanting a normal teenage experience rather than the experience of a typical successor of a powerful mafia. However, he knew his father had a tendency to overreact and cross the line on occasion, which was why he was always nervous about opening up to him completely.

Once the four of them were seated, Morgan occasionally shifted his gaze towards the direction of his bedroom, wondering how long he had to eat before he could leave the room and avoid whatever Samantha was going to say. Apparently, his mother had the same idea, and he had a feeling she knew what the brunette would say. The family ate in silence, the low hum of the TV being the only sound coming from the living room. Morgan's father decided to break it and sat up. "Morgan, how are your studies coming?"

This was something he could handle. If the topic didn't involve his relationship or anything akin to it, Morgan found himself at ease, but it didn't stop the conversation from transitioning into that, so a part of him always felt anxious. "Pretty well. I'm not having trouble with anything."

"That's good to hear. That would be one thing to brag about to the men," At times, Morgan believed his father only cared because he was the successor and he had pride in him and not because he wanted to be a genuine father to him. He always talked about wanting to prove everyone wrong, but even as a child, Morgan had found that odd, and instead of it being supportive, he thought it sounded more like he was betting on him like a racehorse on a track. Morgan turned back to his plate in silence as his father turned to his niece. "And how are you, Samantha?"

"I'm good, Uncle. In fact, I have to tell you something about Morgan."

Both Morgan and his mother paled, briefly glancing at each other before turning to the brunette with frightened gazes, Morgan almost glaring at her. Samantha merely smiled and rested her elbows on the table. She looked over at the panicked blondes before turning to her uncle with a grin. "Morgan here has a little girlfriend."

"Really? That's great news," His father gave him a happy smile. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I-" Morgan had no idea what to say, but he was somewhat relieved Samantha didn't know who he was dating. He was also concerned that she might figure that out, but for now, he played along to her blindness. "I wasn't sure what you would think of her, so I was nervous. I ask Mom not to say anything either. It was personal. I wasn't expecting Samantha to find out."

"I see. Well Samantha, I wish you would have kept it to yourself if it meant that much to him."

"Should have said that when she outed my sexuality," Morgan muttered under his breath quiet enough so no one could hear him, but he also wondered what took him so long to say anything about her gossip habits. "I wasn't really ready to tell you about her."

"But you love her, don't you?" Morgan lowered his gaze as his thoughts drifted to the Italian and the time they spend together, causing him to smile with a light blush as he nodded. His father nodded and leaned back in his chair. "Then I wish to meet her."

"Huh?" Morgan snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the man with slightly widened eyes. "When?"

"As soon as possible, of course," The brunette man closed his eyes in satisfaction and relief. "I'm quite glad. I don't think I would know how to feel if you were dating a boy. Although, you're free to do so, but it would leave a sour taste in my mouth."

Morgan's breath hitched and his heart sunk into his stomach as a result. All the more reason for him to hide the real relationship between he and Marshall. His appetite had vanished leaving his half-eaten plate in front of him. Intertwining his fingers, he slowly glanced at his mother. "May I be excused? I'm not so hungry anymore."

"Of course, dear." Morgan nodded and stood from the table with shaky legs, quietly entering the hall and heading straight for his bedroom. Once he closed the door, he leaned against the wall, feeling the need to vomit at his father's words despite knowing they could have been a lot worse. Morgan's father was an excellent leader, and he was the reason why the Twilight mafia rose to be one of the most dangerous yet respected organizations in the country save for the Vanità mafia. However, he normally said what was on his mind, quite bluntly at times, and he wasn't great at reading the mood. It was one of the criticisms he had received from employees and reporters alike, but he continued to stay positive and optimistic.

Morgan wrapped himself in the pansexual flag blanket he had on his bed and curled into a ball with closed eyes and shaky breaths. He rolled onto his stomach, almost believing that he might throw up from the man's remarks. He took in deep breaths to calm himself down before hearing his phone vibrate from the other side of the bed. Morgan peered over and relief washed over him when he saw it was Marshall calling. Almost immediately, he darted towards the phone, cradling it before answering the call. "Hello?" He asked enthusiastically.

_"Morgan, I need you."_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was almost 11 by the time Morgan had pulled up to the Rose household, noticing that the porch light had been turned on. He exited the car and pulled his bag out of the backseat, fully intended to spend the night for both his and Marshall's sake. He didn't want to face his father nor Samantha after dinner; it would just be awkward and there was a high chance Samantha would try to bring the conversation back, something he wanted to avoid. He told his mother where he was going before almost storming out of the door, wanting to be away from his family for the night.

He knocked a couple times before he saw the Italian's mother answer the door with a gentle smile. She stepped aside and gestured him into the hall. "He's been crying since he got home," She explained softly as she closed the door. "He didn't tell me much, but I know it was a rough night. I hope you've had it better. Is Gwen doing well?"

"Yes, she's great actually." Morgan was actually quite relieved that their moms were best friends, and he was especially grateful that neither his nor Marshall's father had tried to interfere with their relationship. He found it ironic that the men had gotten along well with their wives but hated each other. There were times where Ms. Rose had come over for dinner, and his father had showed no ill intent throughout the night (although he had her escorted outside of the building, but he would do that with any guest). Because of this, Morgan hoped their fathers could get along sometime in the future, but it seemed to be impossible.

Morgan thanked the woman before heading upstairs to see how the ravenette was doing. He imagined Marshall was curled up under his covers with the lights off, wanting to hide from the rest of the world after the night he's had. Morgan wondered what kind of reaction he would get; the first option to pop in his head was Marshall tackling him the moment he opened the door, the second option was Marshall would wait for him to approach, but Morgan found that unbelievable given their track record. Marshall was the more physically affectionate of the two even when he didn't show emotion in public. It was his way of reminding himself that he and Morgan were safe and sound and that nothing was wrong.

Morgan slowly opened the door to see that the lamp on the nightstand turned on, and Marshall had his knees pressed against his chest with a lowered gaze. At the sound of the door, Marshall's head jerked up with slightly wide eyes, and Morgan saw that his cheeks were red, puffy, and held dried tears. Barely a moment had passed before the Italian stretched his arms out towards him, and Morgan almost threw himself into a hug. Marshall wrapped his legs around the other's waist and clung to him like a koala, desperate to not let go. The two were content with spending the rest of the night in silence, being in each other's company was more than what they could ask for. But the elephant in the room was waiting patiently for the conversation to begin, and Morgan knew they couldn't avoid it completely. "So, what happened?"

A nuzzle was his response, and Morgan had to mentally slap himself at the question. "Right, right. I can't know, but were you successful at least?"

He earned a nod before Marshall pulled away but didn't let go. "Yeah, we were successful. But, we were fighting the boss, and I froze. That's when Father got mad."

"Why did you freeze?"

"It felt. . . familiar," Marshall bit the corner of his lip with a troubled look. "I-I got reminded of some stuff, and it wasn't pretty, and-"

"It's okay. Say no more."

Morgan gave him soothing kisses along his cheek and jaw in case he needed to calm down at the memory. Marshall threaded fingers in his hair and guided him to kiss lower, giving a slight shudder when he felt a nip at his collarbone. "H-How was home, by the way?"

"Complete shit," Morgan sighed as he somehow found himself on top of the Italian but still holding onto him. "Sam is scaring me with how much she might know, Dad said something homophobic, and I stormed out."

To both of them, dating another boy was much worse than dating someone in a rival family; it was stigma that kept the formality between Marshall and his father, and while Morgan didn't have that formality, the way his father talked about him settling down with a girl made him uneasy. Given the outlandish reactions from the past, he expected anything at that point. It was hard to read his father sometimes, but his actions said enough.

Morgan was almost taken back when Marshall almost slammed their lips together in a heated kiss, and he responded by cupping a cheek with one hand and holding one of Marshall's thighs with the other. Marshall kept his arms wrapped around the other's neck for a moment before aggressively tugging at his shirt. Morgan's breath hitched as a result. "Marsh, wait."

"Lock the door." Marshall breathed out before loosening his arms enough to let Morgan sit up. Morgan still felt embarrassed of the fact Ms. Rose was fully aware that her son was having sex with him, but he felt more embarrassed because she could just take one look at them and know when they've done it. But at the moment, Morgan could care less; he had some steam to let off, and Marshall needed him in more ways than one.

Their kisses became more aggressive until it ended up being a flurry of bites across their skin. Hair was tugged on as clothes were practically ripped and thrown to the floor. Legs were spread and both of them almost couldn't breathe. The first thrust was gentle, as it was during their first time, before all hell broke loose. Nothing was spoken, only the gasps and moans that escaped Marshall's mouth echoed throughout the room. This was normal for them both; the only time he moaned was when he wanted a distraction. He kept his legs firmly wrapped around Morgan's hips, and while Morgan was clutching the sheets underneath them, Marshall had his nails digging into the other's shoulder blades, almost deep enough to draw blood.

When they reached the end, both of them started to spasm with shaky breaths, and Morgan almost collapsed on top of the younger teen but thankfully moved to fall next to him. Marshall's glasses were seconds away from slipping off his face, so he took them off and set them on their usual spot. He sighed with closed eyes, unable to feel his legs, noticing Morgan shift to sit up on the bed and mentally grinning at the sight of the large purple hickey on the side of his neck. Morgan gave him a soft gaze before speaking. "Get some rest. I'll clean up tonight."

Marshall nodded and watched him leave, adjusting himself so his head was resting against the pillow as he pulled his shirt down to cover himself. He wanted to stay awake, but he had already exhausted himself from crying earlier that night, and the recent round of sex certainly further kept him from keeping his eyes open. He turned over, debating if he should rest his eyes for a minute, but found himself passing out the moment he closed them.

* * *

"I'm not even gonna ask how you got this," Ava leaned over and flicked the faded mark on Morgan's neck. He winced and slapped a hand over the spot with a scowl towards the girl while Marshall smirked at his work. The three of them were on the roof during the free period, wanting to be away from the other students who might want to be nosy and listen in on their conversation. Ava flipped through her notebook with crossed legs before looking at the pair. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

Morgan scratched the back of his head with a nervous gaze. "Well, you're gonna have to help me continue lying to my dad."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I know you're both not gonna like this, but hear me out," Morgan gave them both a glance with a sigh. "Ava, I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend."

"WHAT!?"

Both Marshall and Ava stood in disbelief, almost glaring at the blonde. Morgan winced sheepishly, and he gave them both an apologetic look. "Listen, my cousin told my dad that I was in a relationship, and obviously he assumes I have a girlfriend. So, he wants to meet her."

"And you want me to be the fake girlfriend?" Ava lifted an eyebrow before pointing to the ravenette. "Why can't Marshall disguise himself? You know he would gladly crossdress for you."

"My dad may be terrible at reading the mood, but he's not stupid," Morgan leaned against the rail with half-lid eyes. "It wouldn't take him long to put two and two together. If he didn't know what Marsh looked like, I wouldn't be asking you this."

Marshall bit his thumb with a grimace and an averted gaze, deep in thought at the other teen's words. While it was true the Twilights knew what he looked like, there have been multiple times where he made himself unrecognizable whether he was crossdressing or not. But he also heard rumors about the boss's temper, rumors sounding so bizarre he almost couldn't believe them. Morgan knew his father better than anyone, and if he was scared about what could happen, then Marshall had to take his word. He turned to Ava with a troubled gaze as he crossed his arms. "He's right."

"Are you hearing yourself!?" Ava's voice almost rose to a shout. "If I have to actually kiss your boyfriend-"

"Look, none of us like it either, but we have to keep up the charade," Marshall interjected with a fearful tone before lowering his head. "There's so much on the line, and one tiny screw-up can ruin everything. Please, Ava. Do it for us."

The girl shifted her gaze between the two of them and saw the most uncomfortable looks on their faces like no matter if the plan would work, they wouldn't like how it was executed. The thought of being intimate with Morgan made her squeamish with betrayal, and it wouldn't be something she could easily get over. Ava sighed and looked over towards the track field underneath them. "Dad won't like this."

"Definitely." Since they were young, Ava's father was completely against their friendship due to the fear of her being held hostage or killed for mafia-related reasons. While it was understandable, that didn't stop Ava from doing everything she could to befriend the two; they were close enough to do anything for each other, but pretending to be in a relationship was something that was always off of the list from the beginning.

Ava finally turned away to face the blonde. "So, when should I meet him?"

"If I'm honest, as soon as possible. I can take you there after school to get it over with," Morgan finally stood and gathered his things, grabbing Marshall by the hand and kissing his knuckles gently. "We'll avoid anything intimate if we can." He soothed.

"I know," Marshall gave Ava a stern gaze and placed his hands on her shoulders. He let out a heavy sigh before darting forward to give the girl a quick peck on the lips. She and Morgan were stunned at the action, but noticed the grimace on his face. "There. That way if you do have to kiss him, it would be an indirect one from me." Marshall shuddered and held himself close, telling himself to wash his mouth out when he went home that afternoon.

The bell rang signaling the end of the free period, and the trio made their way back towards the halls to join the rest of the students. While they were silent compared to the bustling crowd, their thoughts were loud and clear. They were worried about how the meeting would turn out, and they were worried about Morgan's father catching on to the lie. They were worried about how far he would go to see who Morgan was actually dating, they were worried about what he would actually do to him, but they were especially worried about what he might do to Ava. But until then, they could only hope and pray.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The school bell signaled the end of the day, and while students were glad the week was slowly coming to an end, the air was tense around Marshall, Morgan, and Ava as they quickly made their way to the front gate. Marshall had already called his mother for a ride home as he rode with Morgan that morning. The three of them were silent as they stepped passed the school buses towards the parking lot behind them, ignoring the chatter of the other students and the heavy smell of gasoline that was mixed with the fresh air. They swerved their way through the parked vehicles, cars that were making their way to the open street, and teens that were standing around with no real direction of where they were going.

They approached Morgan's car with frowns, and Ava gave the Italian a hug before she reluctantly climbed inside the passenger side. Morgan scratched the back of his head nervously and was about to speak until Marshall placed a finger over his lips. "Make sure he doesn't find out, and say hi to your mom for me."

Morgan nodded, a smile growing on his face before taking Marshall's chin between his fingers and kissing him sweetly. Marshall giggled in the kiss and grabbed his shoulders momentarily before they pulled away with loving gazes. Marshall was the first to break by turning on his heel and heading back towards the front gate, giving the blonde a final wave before disappearing through the crowd of buses.

Marshall leaned against the wall, watching Morgan's car pull out of the parking lot and out of sight, eventually slumping with a frown. He watched the buses begin to pull away from the school followed by a crowd of cars that had waited too long to leave and had to wait further for the buses, and also saw a few groups of students who were waiting for their rides as well, glancing over at him occasionally with hushed whispers. Marshall couldn't help but roll his eyes and lower his gaze towards his phone.

"Hey Rose, do you think Morgan is cheating on you?"

He heard a student ask in an almost excited tone, and looked up to see a trio of students approach him with curious smiles. Marshall couldn't help but sigh. "No. He's not cheating on me, nor will he ever."

"But he left with Ava. Isn't that suspicious?" The female underclassman next to him asked with her hands behind her back.

Marshall of course couldn't tell them the truth; it would only tell them how their fathers saw their relationship, and Marshall wanted to keep that aspect up to interpretation among the rest of the citizens. It was risky either way: not knowing the truth could cause people to ask either mafia boss themselves, and in turn, they would know about the relationship and try to break it apart, or various rumors about their relationship status would start to spread with people wondering if there was any love between them to begin with. On the other hand, if the public thought the two fathers knew, they would assume they were okay with their sons dating and bring it up to them whenever they could. Then it would be revealed the two fathers didn't know and the public would only be left with their reaction and potential outcome.

Marshall only shrugged at the question. "Am I not allowed to let my boyfriend hang out with his female friends?"

"We're not saying that. We just find it weird."

"Look, nothing is going on. Morgan and I are still dating."

"What about your dads?"

Marshall internally jumped for joy at the sight of a familiar car, immediately brushing off the trio in annoyance before darting towards the car in a rush. Giving obscure answers to the press was something he was used to, but he never enjoyed being ambushed by reporters and the like whether he was in public or in school. The newspaper club would try to find every way to be alone with him or Morgan and ask them questions about their relationship. It also didn't help that the head of the club was the daughter of one of the reporters who had been tailing both families for years.

"You've never been that happy to see me."

Marshall frowned at the voice, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of his father behind the wheel, lifting an eyebrow in confusion. "Where's mom?"

"She had a matter to attend to and asked me to come get you." For some reason, Marshall had trouble believing that as his father pulled away from the school; He knew his mother well enough to know she would tell him in advance. Marshall lowered his gaze slightly as they drove, away from the suburban area and heading downtown. His heart sunk with dread as they passed various skyscrapers and buildings, wondering what exactly his father was going to drag him into. For a moment, he had a feeling it had something to do with the mission the night before, but he wasn't exactly sure.

They pulled up to an underground parking garage that was connected to a tall skyscraper, and the two slowly made their way to the elevator in silence. Marshall rubbed one of his arms with a lowered head, avoiding eye contact with his father as the elevator lifted them to the upper floors. Marshall noticed the lift slowing down until stopping completely, and he realized they arrived on the training floor. He silently followed his father with his gaze towards the floor, noticing the other employees keeping their distance in silence. Marshall didn't know what exactly was going on or what had happened even though he had recently been to the base a few days prior.

Marshall followed his father through a pair of glass doors, nervousness rising in his chest as he was tossed a foam knife after stepping inside the room. "Your performance last night, though it was excellent, had been weaker than it had been previously," His father started while twirling another foam knife in his hands. "Before I make any conclusions, I want to test something."

"Um, okay?" Marshall was a bit confused, but he knew to be ready when his father lunged at him. He rolled out of the way, but the man's fast reflexes almost threw him off, feeling a hand grab his leg and pull him back. Marshall jerked out of his hold by kicking away his hand, getting back on his feet and throwing his arm out to aim for his father's neck. Unfortunately, his father swatted his arm away and grabbed him by the neck and pinning him to the floor, raising the wielded hand above his head for the finishing blow. However, Marshall hoisted his legs in the air to wrap around his father's neck and sat up for their blades to clash. Marshall then kicked his father in the chin in an attempt to get him away, and before he could recover, Marshall charged forward and brought the knife to his neck with a glare and pinning his father's wrist to his side so he wouldn't be able to counterattack. He ignored the fingers digging into the nape of his neck and he pressed the foam blade against the man's skin as a result.

The two were still for a moment before his father pulled away with a stoic look. "I was right. For some reason, you're better at training than you are at missions. Why is that?"

Marshall frowned in response. "Do you want an honest answer, Padre?"

"I'd prefer it."

Marshall sighed and stepped over to return the knife where it was supposed to go. "If you want the truth, then I don't care about any of this. Whatever is going on between you and the Twilights, I don't care. What's the point if you won't even tell me what started this to begin with? I get it; I'm your successor, but it's because I'm your successor that I feel like I have a right to know what's going on. You don't tell me anything, so why should I care?"

"Marshall-"

"No, I'm sick of this," Marshall cut him off with a glare. "Either tell me what's going on, or you'll get what you got last night." His father's only response was a scowl as the teen turned on his heel and exited the room, almost slamming the door behind him and storming back to the elevator.

Marshall had stayed in his room for the rest of the afternoon. His mother hadn't questioned what happened, but she knew it had something to do with her lover. Marshall had the urge to scream, shout, or rather do anything to make him feel better. He couldn't call Morgan to see what was going on with his family and Ava, and there weren't many people to consult to. He groaned to himself as a result, watching the sun slowly begin to set outside his window. He heard his mother call him for dinner down the hall, and he slowly got off of the bed and headed for the door, dreading whatever his father was about to say to him.

Marshall stepped into the dining room to see both of his parents already at their respective seats at the table, and he silently sat between them. It was one of the rare nights where she visited the headquarters, but whether she was staying over was something Marshall didn't know. As they ate, Marshall avoided eye contact with both of them in case one parent tried to start a conversation that he knows for a fact would go downhill. He kept his head lowered with pursed lips, almost devouring his food to leave the table as fast as possible.

Unfortunately, Mr. Vanità noticed his son's fast pace and lifted an eyebrow. "And what are you in a rush for?"

Marshall bit his lip with furrowed brows. "One of my favorite shows is airing pretty soon," He gave an excuse he knows wouldn't convince him, but he hoped it would work. "I don't want to miss it."

His father gave him a stern look, and Marshall averted his gaze as a result, not wanting to elaborate but also trying to come up with something believable. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the man nod, but it was immediately followed by "By the way, how is Ava?"

Marshall's breath hitched at the question, and he saw his mother with a worried look on her face. He looked away with a frown. "Why do you ask?"

A chair skidded across the floor and a few footsteps were headed towards him. Marshall balled his hands into fists, afraid to look the man in the eye before noticing his father standing a couple feet in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother stand from her seat, ready to intervene if necessary. Marshall bit the corner of his lip, half-tempted to shroud away, but stayed where he was in case it upset the Italian boss. "What's wrong? Are you that nervous to tell me?"

"I just wanted to know why you asked." Marshall almost spat out, digging his heel into the floor as he tried to stop himself from shaking.

"Well, it's not unusual for me to ask since she's joining the family soon enough," Marshall almost stumbled, keeping a hand on the wall behind him to support himself in case he fell. He swallowed, taking in a few deep breaths, before looking back at his father, his eyes widening when he saw the man was serious. "Unless there's another girl that caught your eye."

There were a lot of things Marshall wanted to say, but the words were caught in his throat. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to say anything without inaudible nonsense sputtering from his lips from trying to speak. His bottom lip quivered slightly, shifting his gaze to his worried mother for a split second and seeing her begin to step away from the table before returning to his father's eyes. "There is no girl."

The boss lifted an eyebrow with half-lid eyes with an unconvinced look. "What?"

"There. Is. No. Girl," Marshall repeated as a growl, a glare appearing on his face but fear still lingered in his eyes. "I thought after I told you years ago you would understand I'm not attracted to them."

"You don't know that. Boys your age are normally confused about who they like."

"Confused," The word hit him like a truck as he spat with a shaky breath. Three years of silence and it's the first time Marshall heard how his father felt about his sexuality. He almost couldn't believe it. Three years of ignoring it completely and that's the word he uses. His own father practically thought he was lying to himself. Marshall felt tears stinging his eyes, but he tried to hold them back. "You think I'm confused? You're crazy."

"Marshall-"

"You're crazy," He ignored his father's tone as his glare deepened. "Crazy for even coming to that conclusion. All I want is for you to accept me. I just want you to accept that I don't like girls because I'm gay."

Immediately, a hand was around his neck and he was pinned against the wall. He heard his mother call out and rush to the two of them, pulling on his father's arm in an attempt to get him to let go. His grip only tightened and Marshall gasped. He tried to pull himself away, but his father's grip was fierce and he only struggled. Ms. Rose was still pulling on his arm, but to no avail. In the back of his mind, he remembered the small knife that was in his back pocket, something he kept on his person in case of an emergency. Marshall was pressed further into the wall as he reached into that pocket to grab it, and with a burst of courage, he swiped at his father's hand. Automatically, he was released as Mr. Vanità pulled back with a wince, cradling the blood seeping out of the back of his hand and giving the teen a hard glare. Marshall froze for a moment before bolting down the hall towards his room. "Marshall Rose, get back here now!"

He slammed the door and locked it when he heard heavy footsteps, and a moment later, a loud banging was heard on the other side with his father shouting in his native tongue. Marshall curled into a ball to let himself cry, squeezing his eyes shut as he covered his ears. The banging stopped a moment later, probably due to his mother somehow calming him down, but he wasn't going to open the door to check. Marshall was grateful for her; he knew for a fact he would have been dead years ago if she wasn't around, and the thought alone frightened him.

It was almost midnight when Ms. Rose went to check on him, and she opened the door to see him curled up under the sheets fast asleep. The woman approached the bed slowly, adjusting the pride blanket covering him and gently petting his hair, causing him to shift with a quiet moan. Despite the few tears still rolling down his face, he looked at ease as though crying had helped him feel better. She kissed his temple sweetly before pulling away. "He thinks you hate him, you know." She spoke to her lover who stood at the doorway with crossed arms and a scowl, his hand neatly wrapped in a bandage.

Mr. Vanità only shrugged as a response, giving a blank gaze towards the teen with half-lid eyes. "I hate what he's become."

"He's become who he is," The woman closed the door behind her as they entered the hall. "Is it wrong for him to be happy who he is?"

"He's not happy."

"Because you push him away because of something that shouldn't be a big deal, but you treat it as such," Ms. Rose lowered her gaze with a troubled look. "The only thing he wants is for you to come to terms with who he is. Put away your personal feelings for his sake," She slowly took his hands and intertwined their fingers before looking back at him. "For my sake."

The man grimaced slightly with an averted gaze before turning to the desperate look she was giving him. He sighed and leaned forward, letting his lips linger on her cheek for a moment as he pulled her close. "I can't promise anything."

"I'm only asking you to try." She replied softly while returning the hug and closing her eyes. She didn't pull away when the Italian kissed her sweetly for a moment before he stepped down the hall to his own bedroom. Ms. Rose glanced back at her son's door with a sympathetic gaze before following her partner hurriedly and closing the door behind her.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The security guard at the front of the garage gave a confused eyebrow when he saw Ava sitting in the passenger seat of Morgan's car. She shrouded away nervously while Morgan lazily waved at him, signaling there was nothing to worry about. The guard nodded and Morgan pulled into the garage further, giving the girl a comforting smile.

As they stepped down the hall, various employees were giving the pair confusing glances. Morgan pulled the girl behind him as a result, giving them a slight glare as they stepped into the elevator silently. The two of them watched the numbers increase nervously, taking in a few breaths to hopefully calm them down. Morgan took Ava's hand and squeezed it, not knowing what they were going to expect from his father and cousin. Morgan knew his mother would play along to the situation, and it would help out the three of them immensely. Although, he was more worried about his cousin catching onto the facade. "Ready?" He asked the girl next to him. Ava nodded with a nervous gaze, squeezing his hand for comfort. Morgan nodded and held in a breath before he slowly opened the door. "I'm home, and I brought a guest."

"Oh? Who is it?"

He wasn't surprised to hear his father's voice, and he saw both of his parents step into the living room with curious glances. Ava averted her gaze sheepishly and lowered her head, and Morgan rubbed at his arm. "Mom, Dad, this is my. . .girlfriend, Ava."

Morgan saw his mother's eyes widen and his father's eyes light up immediately and he clapped his hands together in glee. He stepped forward and shook the girl's hand excitingly. "I wasn't expecting to meet you so soon, but it's very nice to see you, Ava."

"Noted," Ava shook his hand with a half smile before hesitantly wrapping her arms around the blonde teen and leaned his head on his shoulder and peering at him. "Morgan told me what was going on, and he figured you'd want to meet me sooner rather than later."

"I didn't mind when he introduced us, but you are correct," The man gestured towards the kitchen with a smile. "Would you like a drink?"

"No thanks," Ava waved her hand. "I had a little snack before I got here."

"I see." That smile never faded, and for a second, Morgan felt uncomfortable about where the conversation could lead and knew that any second now, his father would start talking about the future. He noticed his mother was keeping her distance, probably thinking the situation could occur. Nervousness grew in Ava's eyes, and she averted her gaze.

Before the brunette had another chance to speak, Morgan interrupted him. "If you don't mind, Ava and I have homework that needs to be done."

"Of course. Remember to take her home when you're finished."

Morgan nodded before pulling the girl by the wrist down the hall towards his bedroom, not looking back at his parents and keeping silent until he closed the door behind them. Immediately, both of them let out sighs and slumped, giving each other concerned and embarrassed looks. Morgan was the first to speak. "How did your dad feel when you told him where you were?"

"He wasn't happy," Ava placed her hands in her lap as she sat on the bed with a lowered gaze. "I think he has a feeling this could go wrong. Or his worst nightmare has come true and his daughter married herself into the mafia."

"Wait, does he really think that?" Morgan lifted an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Yeah. He thinks I'm one of the reasons your families are fighting because you both want me to marry your son."

Morgan was a bit taken back, and from her face, Ava wasn't pleased of her father's assumption with the two mafias. Morgan knew he didn't trust them, although he didn't quite know the reason aside from the fear for his daughter and the possibility that her involvement could get her killed, both of which were valid reasons. However, he never imagined Ava's father thought the two were actually fighting over her. It was something normally seen in a romantic drama, and it surprised him that her father didn't know he was already in a relationship. Perhaps Ava thought it was their place to say something to him instead of her, but at that point, Morgan didn't exactly know.

Morgan's ears perked up at the sound of footsteps, and once he realized whose footsteps they were and where they were going, his eyes widened. Ava tilted her head in confusion before Morgan grabbed her by the arm and pulled her forward to slam their lips together. Her eyes widened as a result as Morgan grabbed her chin just as the door opened. The gasp from the doorway confirmed Morgan's suspicions, and he turned around to face Samantha with an annoyed look. "Ever heard of knocking?" He asked grudgingly.

"Uncle said you were with your girlfriend, and I wanted to see for myself," Samantha lifted an eyebrow as she gazed at the blushing pinkette. "So this is her. I'll admit, I was expecting something else," Morgan knew she didn't sound convinced, and that made both of them worry. Ava shrouded behind the blonde and nuzzled his shoulder blades despite believing she was crossing a line. Samantha crossed her arms with a lifted eyebrow at the two before trailing her eyes towards Ava. "So, how long have you two been dating?"

"Huh?" Ava blinked in surprise when she realized the brunette was talking to her. "A-About half a year. We didn't exactly know when would have been the best time to tell our parents." Samantha hummed in response and Morgan bit the corner of his lip while turning to the pinkette. He knew his cousin wasn't as gullible, but he hoped it was enough to sway her, but a part of him knew it wasn't going to work. Whenever she had doubts, Samantha was hard to convince, and there was a risk when it came to lying to her if it wasn't done right. Morgan balled his hands into slight fists and he avoided his cousin's gaze completely.

Samantha shrugged her shoulders before turning on her heel without a word, surprising the two as she closed the door behind her and proceeded to step away. Morgan sighed and fell to his knees in relief, bringing a hand to his face in embarrassment as he turned to the girl. "I'm so sorry I had to do that." He muttered.

"Well," Ava placed her hands behind her back and swayed with a half-hearted smile. "At least you indirectly kissed Marshall."

Morgan chuckled in response before reaching into both of their bags and pulling out their schoolwork. "Come on. Let's get this done before it gets dark."

* * *

The sun had barely started to set by the time Morgan and Ava were finished with their schoolwork, and they had exited the bedroom so Morgan could take her home. They grabbed their bags and stepped down the hall, and Morgan noticed the smell of chicken coming from the kitchen. He held Ava's hand to continue the act as they walked passed the living room. His mother spotted the two and nodded with a smile. Morgan waved at her, looking around to see that his father was nowhere in sight, and nodded to Ava. "Good. Let's get out of here before he comes back."

"Right."

Morgan held the door handle and almost ripped it open, eyes widening when he saw his father standing in the hall with an outstretched arm. He stepped back as the brunette lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, where are you two going?" He asked.

"I'm taking Ava home before it gets dark." Morgan explained, cursing to himself when he saw his father not giving an opening for them. He saw Ava's gaze fill with confusion as she turned to him, clutching his hand tighter as Samantha stood from her spot on the couch.

"But she should stay for dinner," His father suggested with a smile. "And there are future plans for us to discuss," The two teens froze, and Morgan had half the thought of pushing him aside and running, but he knew they wouldn't get far and it would only raise suspicion with him and his cousin. They stepped back and allowed him to enter the suite and close the door behind him, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on a nearby rack before stepping near the dining room. "After all, because of how much you talk about her, I'm sure you plan on marrying her."

"What!?"

The four others in the room gave looks of disbelief, even Samantha was surprised at his words. All of a sudden, Morgan felt nauseous and he saw the uncomfortable look on Ava's face. His mother looked troubled and she immediately stepped back into the kitchen, and the brunette man tilted his head in confusion. "Did I say something?"

"You really think they're gonna last forever?" Samantha asked with a lifted eyebrow. "They might have a bad breakup and all of your "planning" will go right down the drain." She made air quotes to emphasis, and Morgan had to agree even though she didn't know the truth. He wasn't fully sure he and Marshall could have a falling out in the future, but currently, they trusted each other with their lives. Marshall had told him time and time again he would never keep any secrets, and for the past two years (also including their childhood days), the Italian had yet to break that promise. Morgan also had yet to break that trust between them, and he sure wasn't going to start anytime soon. While Ava wasn't in love with either of them, the thought of her going behind their backs made her squeamish.

"She's right," Morgan continued with his hands held up in front of him. "Plus, I don't know if we're even ready for marriage. We're still young, Dad."

"Of course. There's no rush, but it's better to plan than be surprised."

Ava kept her mouth shut as she averted her gaze with a light shudder, eyeing the door desperately and wondering when they would have a chance to leave. Morgan noticed and immediately turned on his heel. "Listen Dad, I need to get Ava home before it gets dark. We'll talk later." Before his father had a chance to say anything, the two teens rushed into the hall and into the nearest elevator. Morgan crouched with a loud sigh and glanced up to see Ava with a hand over her mouth, looking as though she was going to be sick. He comfortably held her hand with an apologetic look and opened his mouth to say something before holding his tongue. Nothing could excuse what just happened -not that Morgan wanted to excuse it to begin with- but anything he thought could comfort her fell flat on its face in his mind. He pursed his lips as the elevator doors opened, and the two practically sprinted to his car.

A dark orange hue was in the sky as Morgan pulled up to the curb, stopping to let Ava reach in the backseat to grab her things. "Sorry about my dad." He apologized half-heartedly.

Ava shook her head. "That's okay. I sorta had a feeling he would mention marriage," She lowered her head with half-lid eyes and an averted gaze, her bag clutched in both hands as she bit the corner of her lip. She sighed before looking back to him. "Don't rush yourself, alright? It's a big commitment and I'm about 95% sure Marsh isn't ready yet."

"I think he's more ready than me."

Both of them chuckled before the girl slung her bag over her shoulder and turned away. "Make me the Maid of Honor when you pop the question."

"You don't even have to ask." Morgan waved with a smile, watching her enter the house before pulling away. He couldn't help but let his mind wander, imagining what could happen if he and Marshall made that decision. Of course, he was thinking of after high school, after the two had become legal adults and inherited their respective fortunes. That would be the best time, but he imagined they would be more focused on the changes that would occur in both mafias. Morgan decided not to worry about it and wanted to see what the future held for them instead. Although, if there was one thing he hoped for, he hoped he could prevent anything that could potentially caused the downfall in his relationship.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Marshall's alarm went off the next morning, and he reached over to turn it off with a groan. The sun was barely peeking out over the horizon, and he glared at the harsh light that came through his window. He shifted onto his side with a light sigh, nuzzling his face into the pillow and curling up under the sheets. He didn't know what to expect after his outburst last night, and he was afraid to see how his father would act once they saw each other. He would be glared at -Marshall knew that for sure- but he wasn't sure what to expect after that; anything could happen at that point.

Marshall slowly sat up with a yawn, rubbing sleep out of his eyes before leaning over to take his glasses off of his nightstand and sliding them on his face. He looked into the mirror above his dresser, grimacing at his bed hair and the slight red puffiness under his eyes. Marshall lowered his gaze and grabbed fistfuls of the comforter with half-lid eyes, silently contemplating whether he should stay in his room to avoid his father or get his wrath over and done with no matter what happened. After a moment, he decided on the former, cursing under his breath and throwing the covers off of him, swinging his legs off of the bed and almost storming to his bedroom door. Marshall's hand had barely touched the handle before he paused with a lowered head, pursing his lips in uncertainty and feeling his heart practically pounding in his chest. He tried to shake it off, but even when he opened the door and stepped into the hall, it lingered in the back of his mind.

He was immediately approached by a faint smell of bacon and coffee, and he lifted an eyebrow as a result, stepping towards the kitchen in confusion. Marshall's eyes widened immensely when he peeked around the corner and saw his father at the stove, glancing behind him to see who was awake and lifting an eyebrow at his son. Marshall froze on the spot, every nerve in his body telling him to run before he lost the chance. His eyes shot to the bandaged hand and he couldn't help but look away with a grimace. Marshall heard a grunt from his father and lifted his head to see him looking back at the stove. He blinked in surprise and took a step back, shifting his gaze before turning on his heel and leaving.

A half hour later, he stepped back into the kitchen, fully dressed in his uniform, and noticing his father sitting at the table with a coffee mug in silence. Marshall kept his distance as he grabbed his breakfast, giving a quick look to his now awake mother and sat at the far end of the table. The silence grew thick save for the light clatter of silverware, and Marshall kept his head lowered as he ate. It didn't seem as though either parent was up to start a conversation, and for that Marshall was grateful. He didn't think it was the right time after what had transpired.

After checking his phone, Marshall stood from the table and proceeded to get ready for the day. He grabbed his bag from his bedroom and stepped towards the front door, glancing at his mother expectantly with a lifted eyebrow. Instead, his father stood from the table and gazed at her. "I'll take him today." He said reassuringly to her. Marshall's heart sunk as she hesitantly nodded and the two males exited the flat and towards the elevator. Marshall slowly stepped behind him, unsure of what to say or what his father would say to him. He rubbed his arm with an averted gaze, clutching one of his backpack straps with his free hand as they entered the elevator, riding it down to the parking garage under the building. The drive to school was also filled with silent tension; Marshall was already nervous about how Morgan and Ava's afternoon went, but his father's actions wasn't helping in the slightest. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat with a quiet sigh, glancing over at the time occasionally with a desperate look.

Finally, they pulled up to the school, and Marshall was about to get out of the car before his father spoke to him for the first time that morning. "...Have a good day, Marshall." The teen's eyes slightly widened before lowering them slightly. He nodded as a sign of thanks before stepping out of the car and heading for the front entrance, hearing his father drive off in the distance.

Not long after, he spotted Ava on her way to homeroom, and he called out to her over the crowd of students. “Ava!” Ava turned around with wide eyes before averting her gaze towards the ground. Marshall lifted an eyebrow with a confused look. “What’s wrong?”

”I’ll tell you at lunch,” She responded while shifting her bag on her other shoulder. “It’s better than Morgan and I tell you together.”

Marshall nodded with a worried gaze, wondering how bad the meeting had gone. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed it when they entered the classroom, stepping towards their desks quietly and getting settled for the morning. The two remained quiet, but as the lesson went on, Ava became more relaxed and focused, and while it put Marshall at ease, he was still worried about what she and Morgan were going to tell him.

When the bell rang for lunch, the duo darted out of the classroom and down the hall, trying to avoid any students they came across, any students who gave them a confused glance, any students who could be suspicious. The closer they got to the roof, the more nervous Marshall became. There was a rock sitting at the bottom of his stomach, and his appetite was slowly drifting away. He held Ava's hand tighter as a result as they made their way up the stairs.

Marshall spotted the blonde siting against the fence eating a small container of pasta with a lowered head. The two scampered over, and Marshall wrapped arms around the other teen with a nuzzle. Morgan petted his hair and kissed his cheek with a smile as Ava sat in front of the two, grabbing her sandwich from her bag and unwrapping it. Marshall pulled out his own lunch before speaking. "So, how did it go?"

"Not as bad as I thought it would, but..." Morgan averted his gaze sheepishly. "Apparently Ava's dad thinks our families are fighting over her."

Marshall's eyes widened in disbelief, and he turned to Ava for confirmation. The girl shrugged and nodded with a worried gaze, and he turned back to Morgan. "Your dad wants you two to marry too?"

"It's nonsense, but yes," Morgan held his hand to soothe him. "He pulled the marriage card, and the conversation went south, but it was fine before," He turned to the pinkette with an apologetic look. "Sorry I had to kiss you."

"Tell that to him." Ava nudged him and gave a soft look to the Italian, who was slouched against the fence nibbling a BLT.

Morgan nuzzled him and muttered a soft apology, but Marshall remained silent. He wasn't mad, and he knew neither of the other teens were happy with the kiss, but the mere thought made him uncomfortable. Marshall also found it baffling to have the idea that both of their fathers were fighting over her despite not doubting it. If his father ever told him what was going on, Marshall believed it could be anything.

Marshall pecked his cheek with an understanding smile and held onto his arm, intertwining their fingers. "Well, I figured it was gonna happen," He sighed while looking back at the girl with half-lid eyes. "But, if I had to take a guess as to why they're fighting, I'd say it's competition."

"Competition to be number one?" Ava asked.

"Guess so," Marshall shrugged. "Couple days ago, Father told me he doesn't want anyone to take over the top spot, so he tries to break them before they get the chance. He sees others as a threat."

"I think my father feels the same," Morgan lowered his gaze. "He wants to be at the top, and the only family stopping him is yours."

"I wish they would get over it," Ava scoffed. "I think everyone is sick of them fighting at this point."

"You and me both, Ava."

The bell rang shortly after, and the three of them gathered the remains of their food and proceeded to head back into the halls with everyone else, holding onto each other's hands as they pushed their way through the crowd. Apparently people liked to spend more time chatting in the middle of the halls rather than do it while walking. Of course, when they saw the three approach, they automatically moved out of the way to let them through.

They approached Morgan's classroom first, but before Morgan could step inside, Marshall tugged him forward for a soft kiss. Morgan's eyes widened slightly before returning it and wrapping an arm around the Italian. When they pulled away, Marshall leaned up to his ear in a whisper. "My place after school?"

Morgan's face turned a light pink, but he smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Your place." The two went their separate ways, and Marshall and Ava silently but peacefully stepped into their classroom. They ate whatever food they had left before the bell rang to signal for class to begin. The rest of the day consisted of the regular lectures along with the two teens taking notes with a variety of doodles in their notebooks that would forever be hidden from the rest of the world; Ava's doodles were childlike and innocent while Marshall's were more sultry to the point where they knew exactly what he was drawing; it was why his notebook was more secluded than hers.

Marshall's eyes lit up when the bell rang, and he practically threw his books in his bag before waving to Ava and storming out of the room to meet with Morgan in the halls. He scanned the area, looking for any sort of the blonde and groaning when he was nowhere to be seen. Once he got to the front entrance, he saw his mother's car waiting for him, and he bit his lip nervously. Marshall dug in his pocket for his phone, blinking in slight surprise at the recent message.

_[Got some family stuff to take care of at home. I'll be over later.] -Morgan._

Marshall sighed before stepping to the parking lot, disappointed but expected the response. After yesterday, Marshall would have been surprised if the Twilight head didn't want to talk to Morgan. Of course, Marshall can't know what the conversation would be; it was an unspoken rule between them since childhood to never know much about each other's families in regards to what could potentially hurt them such as missions or family drama that could be used against them. Both teens knew what not to say, but they also couldn't help the occasional slip.

Marshall sent out a quick reply and leaned back with a tilted head, watching the school disappear behind him through the trees as he hoped Morgan's issue would be dealt with quickly.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"I'll see you guys later."

Marshall and Ava waved as Morgan stepped his way into the parking lot to head home. Ava leaned against the school gate with her hands behind her back as they watched his car pull further and further away from them before turning to the ravenette next to her. "Since you didn't go with him, I assume you have some sort of plan."

Marshall crossed his arms with a lowered gaze. "Call me crazy, but my father offered to train me, so I'm heading to HQ for that."

Ava's eyes almost bulged out of her head, pushing herself off of the wall with a lifted eyebrow and a confused gaze. She waited for a moment, believing she might have been hearing things, before the Italian gave her a look of confirmation. Ava blinked in disbelief. "Are you sure that's your dad? Is he okay?"

"He's never been better," Marshall responded while glancing at his phone. "Although, he's been rather nice to me these past couple weeks. I expected him to blow up at me after I attacked him-"

"Wait, you attacked him?"

"Oh, right. I didn't tell you," Marshall frowned. "He had me against the wall after I reminded him I was gay, and I didn't know how else to defend myself. But now, he seems more..." He trailed off, trying to find the right word. "Tolerant? I don't know if I'm using the right word."

"Maybe he's coming around." Ava suggested, glancing out at the parking lot once again, furrowing her brows slightly at the sight.

Marshall shrugged half-heartedly with slight anger in his eyes. "Doubt it. He's too homophobic to change his mind so easily," The two spotted a familiar black car pull up to the curb, and Marshall grabbed his bag from the ground and began to step towards it. "Ride's here. You sure you'll be okay by yourself? I can ask him to take you home." For some reason, he felt as though he shouldn't leave her alone, unease rising in the back of his throat as he gave her a concerned gaze.

Ava shook her head with a smile. "No, that's okay. Chances are if he does, he'll be more convinced to force a marriage on us." Marshall couldn't help but agree, and he sighed as a result, hugging the girl tightly. Ava grew confused of the sudden concern, but was grateful for it as she hugged him back. "I'll be fine, Marsh. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah." Marshall waved before entering the car, briefly greeting his father, and waving to the girl as he drove off. The unease had stayed lodged in his throat no matter how many times he tried to swallow it down. He balled his hands into fists with a lowered head, biting the corner of his lip softly.  _Ava can take care of herself,_ He thought with pursed lips.  _I shouldn't be worrying about her so much._

However, all he could think about was her well-being throughout the ride back to his father's headquarters. Marshall tried not to let it get to him, but this was his best friend: the one who had been with him since preschool, the one who wasn't afraid to befriend him when everyone else was, the one who was bold enough to talk badly about his family. She was someone special to him, and even though she didn't hold that special place in his heart, Marshall wouldn't have forgiven himself if anything happened to her.

Nevertheless, he breezed through every exercise his father had put him through, even ending in a draw when he sparred with the man. Although, his distraction caused him to be more exhausted than usual when the training was over. He sat on the floor panting heavily, and his father stood over him with a confused glare. "Something is on your mind. What is it?"

Marshall crossed his legs with a lowered head, gazing at the foam knife he held between his fingers with half-lid eyes. "I just have a lot on my mind. It's nothing."

"Well, you did exponentially today despite this." Marshall's eyes lit up slightly at the response, unsure if he heard his father right. He turned to see his father with a half smirk despite his deadpan gaze, and Marshall's heart almost leaped out of his throat. It was a compliment he hadn't heard since he came out of the closet. Maybe Ava was right about him coming around and finally accepting him, although he wasn't sure just yet. The boss glanced at his phone with a lifted eyebrow before turning back to his son. "Let's go. Your mother has food waiting for us."

Marshall's eyes lit up further before he almost sprinted back to the elevator, pushing his concerning thoughts to the back of his mind so he could worry about them later. His father slowly trailed behind him, almost surprised at his son's excitement but decided not to question it. The two were silent on the way back to their flat as Marshall leaned against the wall and began to fan himself with his shirt, tilting his head back and trying to catch his breath. He noticed his father giving him a look, but didn't say a word as he didn't want to be part of a conversation that could get messy. Instead, he turned away with a lowered head, deciding to focus on the low rumble of the elevator as they continued their way.

* * *

Marshall stifled a yawn as he rubbed one of his eyes, glancing at the clock briefly to see what time it was. He was sprawled across the couch in the t-shirt and shorts he wore to bed, and his eyes were firmly placed on the small packet he called his homework. A pencil was between his teeth and he furrowed his brows in thought. His mother was cleaning up in the kitchen and his father was in the love-seat next to him reading the newspaper. The sun had already set outside the window, and the family was spending the evening relaxing after a long day. Or at least, that's what it was supposed to be.

A phone rang out in the living room, and Marshall merely lifted an eyebrow as his father stood from his seat so he could answer it with the same deadpan gaze he wore every day. "Yes?" He answered in the same blank tone he used for everyone except his lover. All Marshall could hear was faint shouting on the other end, but it was enough for a confused expression on his father's face. "Yes, I'll see him right away," Once he hung up the phone, he turned to the teen with a somber gaze. Marshall immediately sat up; something had to have happened if he was making that face. "Come with me. This is something you should know."

Marshall didn't know why he was involved, but he followed his father to to his study a few floors below them as a suspicious feeling rose in his chest. He kept his phone clutched in his hand in case it was needed, staying close to his father as they approached the end of the hall. His chest tightened as the boss opened the door, and his stomach plopped at the sight.

A middle-aged man with light brunette hair sat on the love-seat with his blue eyes giving off a hard yet desperate glare. Marshall instantly shrouded away as a result and his father merely lifted an eyebrow at the man's presence before stepping forward. "What can I do for you, Mr. White?"

"Cut the shit, Vanità," The man spat. "You know why I'm here."

Marshall was a bit taken back from the attitude. He expected his father to snap at him, but instead he kept his composure as he responded. "I honestly don't know why. Care to explain?"

"Ava," The name caused Marshall's heart to sink and his eyes widened in fear. "She hasn't come home and she's never out this late."

"Whatever Miss White does is her decision," The boss replied blankly. "If you trust her enough, you'll have faith she'll come home eventually."

"I don't need your nonchalant attitude," Ava's father growled at him. "Ava is here. I know it. Out of all of the places, she never tells me she's with you."

"Sir, I assure you. Miss White isn't here."

The brunette man set his sights on Marshall with that same desperate glare, storming towards the teen and grabbing his shoulders. "She's here isn't she, boy? You of all people should know." His expression terrified him, and Marshall had to look away. Ava's father grew impatient and began to shake him "Tell me, boy!"

"I don't know," Marshall replied as his father placed a hand on the brunette's shoulder. "I offered to take her home since I didn't want her to be alone, but she said she would be fine by herself."

"Do you know where she is!?"

"No sir! I don't!"

Marshall's voice rose into a shout and jerked himself out of her father's hold after being shaken again. He released the breath he was holding in as the brunette slumped back onto the love-seat, running fingers through his hair with a shaky sigh. Marshall tried to swallow the lump in his throat before he glanced down at his phone. Immediately he scurried out of the room, dialed a number, and brought the phone to his ear with pursed lips. Every ring gave him dread and hope the next one would be cut off with an answer. He bit his thumb with a groan, almost cursing when the call went to voicemail.

He tried again about five more times before giving up and stepping back into his father's study where he heard Ava's father shouting again. He rubbed his eyes with a stifled moan and looked to the guard who he forgot escorted the brunette through the headquarters. The guard shrugged as a response before Marshall turned to the brunette. "Sir, we'll find Ava. I can promise you that." Her father muttered something as a result before he was escorted out of the building moments after.

Marshall headed back to the apartment with somber steps, continuously calling Ava's phone to see if he would get a response but to no avail. The adrenaline that was in his body was replaced with fatigue, but he wanted to stay awake in case Ava called him back. He found himself slowly nodding off the closer he got to his bedroom, noticing his father speaking but not being attentive enough to actually hear what he was saying. He gave a brief wave to his mother before stepping into his bedroom and collapsing face first on the bed, feeling sleep overtake him just as a light buzz went off in the room.

* * *

"I'm sure we'll find her." Morgan comforted as Marshall slumped along the fence with a fork lazily hanging from his mouth. Morgan held his hand sweetly and glanced out over at the track field with half-lid eyes. He had recently heard about Ava's disappearance, and it of course left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn't think she would be involved in mafia matters so soon, but he and Marshall had expected it to happen with how close she was to both of them. If Morgan had to guess, the reason why her father went to the Vanitàs was because Ava had knew them longer; he had only known the two since they were in elementary school, but even so, Morgan knew everything about them.

"I just don't know where she would be," Marshall picked at his food again. "I should have taken her home."

"We didn't know this would happen," Morgan squeezed his hand. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

"I know," Marshall pouted as the other teen cupped his cheek. "I just feel guilty." He pulled Morgan into a tight hug, nuzzling him as Morgan traced small circles across his back to soothe him. Marshall was still for a moment before he pulled away slightly and lowered his gaze towards his phone. "I have some hope though. I got a voicemail last night from Ava's phone, but when I played it, there was a lot of muffled noise that I couldn't quite make out. But, if I could trace the call, I could probably find where she is."

"You think you can do that?"

"Babe, my personal bodyguard is a tech savvy. It won't be hard."

For the first time that day, Marshall smirked and he leaned forward to softly press their lips together. Morgan stroked circles along his hips and felt his heart swell when he noticed the Italian smile into the kiss. The two were still for a moment before Morgan pulled away with a smile. "Tastes like chicken." Marshall snorted and pushed him away with a chuckle, ignoring the glances that were given to them from others on the rooftop.

They spent the rest of the lunch period in lighter spirits and quietly made their way back to their respective classrooms once the bell rang. Morgan gave him a few more soothing kisses before stepping down the hall back to his own class, leaving Marshall alone with names and faces he barely recognized. The lesson had started soon after, but he was too distracted to care.

Marshall thought back to when Ava first made her resolve to join the mafia: it was the summer before the three of them entered middle school, and Ava was spending the night at Marshall's home despite the concerns from her parents. It was a late Friday night, and they were inside a small pillow and blanket fort that was constructed mere hours before, holding a flashlight and reading one of Marshall's various storybooks his father had spoiled him with at his age. The two were chatting about what was going on in the story before Ava made the comparison between the boys' mafia and a castle, imagining herself as a princess with Marshall and Morgan as her knights. Marshall sort of understood what she meant until she made it clear: When they were older, she, Marshall, and Morgan were going to create their own mafia group together, one where there would be nothing to pull them apart. Marshall thought it was a good plan, and when they told Morgan, he was ecstatic about the idea. He didn't know if they would keep to their promise.

Immediately after school, Marshall rushed back to his father's headquarters to give him a brief rundown of what he planned to do. For once, the boss didn't object to the idea, but Marshall knew there was a catch to his agreement. After receiving a text from Morgan saying he would be radio silent, Marshall gave the phone to his bodyguard and spent the rest of the afternoon anxiously waiting for the results. He sat in a conference room with his father and a few other employees who were gathered around the table, giving each other confused glances as they questioned why they were here. They didn't have to wait long as Marshall almost pounced on his bodyguard the moment he stepped into the room.

After muttering something in his ear, Marshall's father gave a surprise expression but it quickly turned into a blank gaze. "It seems an enemy of mine has his hands on Miss White. And naturally, it's our job to return her to her family before it's too late."

"Do we have a location, sir?"

"Why yes, we do," The boss turned to the teen in question. "My son here has helped track down our enemy through a call. What we're doing now is formulating a plan to make sure we retrieve Miss White safe and sound," There was a light murmur as a response from the group before he continued. "With that in mind, let's get started."

* * *

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Marshall darted through various hallways and staircases, immobilizing anyone who stood in his way and almost tripping on his feet in the process. The alarm was still ringing in his ears and he wanted to block it out the best he could. There was shouting behind him, and Marshall did his best to evade them as quickly as possible.

They were supposed to sneak in quietly, take out whoever attacked, grab Ava, and sneak out without any suspicion. How Marshall knew it would go perfectly to plan was unsurprising, but he didn't expect it to go completely haywire. He was separated from his father and had no idea where he was. But he knew the older Italian could take care of himself and proceeded to move his focus back to the task at hand. The building seemed to be larger than what I was supposed to be, and he couldn't help but curse in annoyance. Marshall threw himself into another hallway and came face to face with a door. He let out a sigh and stepped towards it with a frown. "Ava, you better be alive or so help me." He held his knife close before pushing the door open, ready for whatever fight he might be thrown into.

The room was unsurprisingly dark as Marshall stepped inside. He didn't hear any movement, which was a good yes suspicious sign. Marshall glanced around with half-lid eyes, keeping his guard up in case there was a surprise attack. Although, there was a light moan from the other side of the room from a familiar voice, and his eyes widened immediately. He rushed over to see a batch of pink on the floor, and upon closer inspection, realized it was who he was looking for. "Ava!"

The girl in question was covered in deep gashes with an especially nasty cut on her leg that would require stitches. Her eyes were closed yet they were twitching, which told Marshall she was alive for the time being. He turned her over with a worried look and gently shook her. "Ava, it's me. Wake up."

He was responded with a light moan, and Ava slowly opened one eye to look at him. "Marsh?"

"Come on. Let's get out of here," Marshall glanced around the room again with unease before adjusting the girl so he could easily slide her on his back. "What happened?"

"I-I was waiting for Dad," Ava spoke softly as she leaned against him. "And I thought I would go back inside to wait for him. And I..." She trailed off and bit her lip. "I guess I was knocked out because I woke up here. How long was I gone?"

"A couple days. Your dad stormed the place looking for you." Marshall barely dodged a bullet and turned to see a man pointing a gun at the two of them. He gently set the girl down and charged forward, dodging whatever bullets that could hit him and plunged the blade in his chest. Although, the man had grabbed his throat and squeezed it tightly, the gun lodged in his cheek. Marshall pressed the blade in deeper with a glare before pulling it out and slashing the man's neck. Blood poured from the wound and onto the teen's face and clothes as the man fell backwards. Marshall brushed himself off and stuffed the gun in the back of his pants before stepping back towards the girl slumped against the wall. "Still with me?"

"Y-Yeah."

Marshall situated her back on his back before he proceeded onward. Ava shifted slightly with a wince, glancing down at the blood seeping through her leg and dripping on the floor. She felt herself losing consciousness and she leaned against the Italian for more support. After a small murmur, she closed her eyes and felt herself pass out.

* * *

Downstairs, her father was yelling once again, although Marshall wasn't paying attention as he bandaged up his friend's leg after the stitches. Ava was laying across her bed in nothing but an over-sized t-shirt. The moment she got home, her parents insisted on treating her wounds, but Marshall was having none of it, telling them he would feel uneasy unless he knew for sure she was going to be okay. Ava had been cleaned up and treated, and the two were alone in her bedroom while their parents were talking in the living room.

Marshall grimaced at the blood that lingered on his fingers and gave the girl an apologetic look. "Sorry you got dragged into this."

Ava shook her head and smile. "No, that's okay. Think of it as something of a taste of what I could be a part of."

The Italian blinked in surprise at her response. Apparently being taken from her family and friends and bleeding out wasn't enough to sway her mind. Marshall sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh, the look of surprise never leaving his face. "You're still determined on being a mafia kid?"

"Am I not one already?" Marshall snorted and it caused her to chuckle. Marshall leaned back to stare at the ceiling, letting his shoulders relax for once. He turned to Ava and saw her staring out the window with half-lid eyes filled with content. It seemed she had decided to relax too. The bandages on her arms and legs made him feel guilty, and he had half the mind to ask her if joining the mafia was what she really wanted. But Ava was stubborn; She was very strong-willed, and once her mind was made up, it was hard to change it.

 The two heard loud footsteps in their direction, and a split second later, the door burst open to reveal both of Ava's parents. Her father was glaring furiously at the Italian and he stormed over to pull the teen away. "So that's your plan, isn't it!?"

"Wait, what?"

Ava sat up in disbelief, and Marshall shrugged at her as a response, unsure of what he was talking about. He managed to jerk himself away once he spotted his father enter the room with a smug look that Marshall wanted to punch. Ava's mother rushed to her daughter as he spoke. "What did you say to them?"

"I told them nothing," His father responded. "Only that Ava would be joining us once she's finished with her schooling."

Marshall's eyes practically flew out of his head in shock. Immediately, he turned to the Whites with a nervous look. "I'm sorry. Forgive what he says," He spoke cautiously as well. "Ava's a great friend, and she's beautiful, but believe me when I say I have no intention of marrying her."

"And why should I believe you?" Ava's father gave him a cold glare and he couldn't help but flinch. Marshall took a quick glance towards his own father who had frowned at the words, but the look in his eyes was telling the teen to not answer. He knew what Marshall was going to say and he didn't want to hear it again.

Marshall mentally gave him a middle finger, breathing out a shaky sigh before responding. "I have no intention of marrying Ava because I'm gay."

There was the glare becoming more noticeable on his father's face. The Whites looked surprised at his confession, and Ava gave him a worried look, unaware if he was okay with coming out of the closet for a third time. Marshall balled his fists and kept his head lowered, waiting for whatever response they'll give."

"I see." Mr. White sounded unconvinced and he crossed his arms. There was silence after his words as if that was all he wanted to say. Marshall didn't know if he wanted to feel relieved or scared, but he could say it was a mixture of both. He bit his lip and turned back to the silent Ava who also had her gaze averted from the adults.

"We must let Miss White rest. Let's go home, boy." The mafia boss was the first to break the silence as he turned on his heel to step towards the front door. Marshall nodded hesitantly before turning to the other teen. "Don't walk on that leg for a good week or so. You'll open the stitch."

"Yes, sir." Ava saluted playfully and he smiled. Marshall gave her a wave before he followed his father out of the house and into the car. He sighed and slumped in his seat, avoiding his father's gaze as they drove away. He had to remind himself to let Morgan in on the details, but he decided that could wait after he took a well-earned bath and a good rest.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Morgan yawned as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, stepping towards the front door with half-lid eyes as he tried to wake himself up. He rubbed sleep out of one of his eyes as he spotted the sun begin to rise from one of the nearby skyscrapers. His father had disappeared into his study for his work and he didn't bother to care where Samantha had run off to. Morgan checked his phone one last time to make sure he was keeping track of time. He took a quick peek in the kitchen to find his mother cleaning up after breakfast. "I'm heading out, Mom."

The blonde woman pulled away from the sink with a smile and wrapped arms around the teen in a gentle hug, kissing his cheek lovingly as he returned the embrace. "See you when you get back. I love you."

"Love you too." After another squeeze, Morgan waved at the woman with a content smile before stepping down the hall towards the elevator. He released a relaxed sigh as he pushed the button indicating the parking garage and leaned against the wall. His body felt lighter, and he thought it was because of Marshall's news despite it being three days after he was told Ava was safe. The two had visited her every day to check up on her and to let her copy Marshall's notes from class. However, they were never able to stay long due to Ava's parents forcing them out of the house. Morgan thought they did it out of fear of Ava being kidnapped again, but as far as he knew, none of his father's enemies had ever seen the girl.

The drive to school was quiet but cheerful and Morgan was anxiously waiting to see what exactly Marshall had in store for him. The Italian had offered to bring lunch for him, and Morgan of course didn't turn it down. He had a granola bar in his bag in case he got hungry during his morning classes. Morgan pulled into the parking lot quietly, parking in the spot that no one dared to go near because he or Marshall parked in it. The space was always free, and both of them parked in it because it was closer to the school, but Morgan wished people weren't so scared to park in it. For some reason, there was the misconception that either of them would threaten someone who even dared to touch it. Morgan had done his best to dissuade them to make them feel less afraid.

Marshall was a different story, though.

He made a quick stop at his locker to which he was greeted with Marshall throwing his arms around him and pecking his cheek repeatedly with a smile. Even though they had been dating for two years, Morgan still found it hilarious how people would still have the most bewildered looks on their faces at the switch from a resting bitch face to the face of a typical blushing, grinning teenager. Morgan was known for being the happier, more optimistic heir while Marshall was the stoic, emotionless heir. It threw off the student body and staff when they showed they were in a relationship, and seeing Marshall have a smile on his face freaked them out.

When the bell rang, Marshall hesitantly pulled away with a sad smile, pecking Morgan's cheek one final time before scampering to his classroom. Morgan greeted his teacher and peers with a wave before taking his seat, pulling out his notebook and utensils as he patiently waited for the rest of the class to get settled. It hadn't been a good fifteen minutes before he began to occasionally glanced at the analog clock on the wall. But he kept his cool regardless of how many classes he had left. He pushed Marshall out of his mind for a moment so he could focus on the lesson.

Three and a half hours later, the lunch bell rang, and Morgan quickly packed up his bag to make sure no one took his things. He followed the rest of the students into the hall and dashed towards the quickest route to the roof with a grin on his face. He shuffled his way through the light crowd and found the staircase he was looking for, and there were a few groups of students who were also heading in that direction.

When he reached the roof, he spotted Marshall smiling at him from their usual spot. Morgan scampered over, giving him a quick peck before sitting next to him and leaning forward. "So, what's on the menu today?"

"Just something a little simple," Marshall pulled out two small containers. "Or rather, what I consider simple. It was a  _puttana_ keeping it warm all morning."

Morgan was handed a container with a green lid, and when he popped it open, he saw a square of lasagna that covered every corner. It was cut into smaller pieces so it would be easier to eat without cutting it, and because of the steam emitting from it, Morgan assumed it was kept in the oven until early that morning to make sure it was still hot. Morgan couldn't help but smile as he was handed a fork. "There's a catch, isn't there? This isn't regular lasagna."

"I got it from an old Italian recipe," Marshall replied with a smile. "I'd be called a fraud to my own heritage if I didn't. Besides,  _ma amore_ deserves the best of the best." He thickened his accent for emphasis, and it caused Morgan to chuckle. Marshall took a quick bite and thought to himself. "I don't think I did all that bad."

Morgan took a bite from his own container, and his eyes lit up as a result. Marshall smiled sheepishly and nodded as a sign of thanks. The two spent the rest of the lunch period talking about whatever came to mind along with whatever family plans they had. Of course, confidential topics were strictly forbidden.

When lunch ended, Morgan thanked him for the meal and asked if Marshall could cook him another meal in the future to which Marshall happily agreed as long as Morgan cooked something for him in return. They went to their separate classrooms, and Morgan had barely set foot in his until the teacher had told him to go to the principal's office. Morgan was a bit taken back when he was especially told to take his things with him. He hadn't done anything wrong as far as he knew, and he didn't leave anything back at home. Nevertheless, he had to see what was going on.

On his way to the office, he sent a quick text to Marshall that he was probably going home early and that he would contact him once he knew what was happening. He was less scared and more confused. He first thought someone had tried to spread a rumor about him, but he found that to be unlikely; they would be too scared to try. The hallway had gone silent, and if Morgan's thoughts could be heard, they would be loud and clear, echoing off of the walls and into the classrooms and closets.

He opened the door and was greeted with his principal having her hands folded. She was a average to elder looking woman with platinum blonde hair that seemed to turn grayer every time Morgan looked at it, and her chestnut colored eyes held a somber look. His bodyguard was standing next to the desk with his hands behind his back. He was tall with an athletic build, had black hair that was pulled back into a small ponytail and gray eyes piercing the floor. Morgan lifted an eyebrow as he closed the door behind him. "Am I in trouble for something?"

"Your father has called you back home for an emergency." His bodyguard spoke, the look on his face showing he was troubled.

"What's the emergency?"

"I'll let him explain when you're with him." Morgan was even more confused as he was promptly signed out and escorted out of the building. The first thing he noticed was that his car had disappeared, but he figured another employee had taken it back to the headquarters so it wouldn't be left behind. He slid in the passenger seat while keeping an eye on his bodyguard. He was gripping the wheel, eyes narrowed and while he wasn't visibly shaking, Morgan could see it with the way he was bouncing his leg. It was silent, and the longer it went on, the more concerned Morgan was. He didn't know what kind of emergency it was, and there were so many possibilities, he didn't want to ask.

A quick phone call later, the two exited the parking garage and Morgan saw his bodyguard tense up the farther up the elevator they went. Now he was concerned, even more so with the other employees whispering secretly, and Morgan had to assume it was about him. He was led to his father's study, and the taller man closed the door behind them as Morgan approached the desk cautiously. His father's head was held in his hands and fingers were tangled deep into his hair. "Uh, Dad?"

His father lifted his gaze, and Morgan's eyes widened at his reddened eyes and nose as though he had been crying. He coughed and stood up, quickly doing his best to pull himself together. Morgan's confusion soon turned to fear; something had to had happened to make the boss cry like that. His father took in a deep breath before speaking. "About a couple hours after you left for school, there was an incident."

Morgan's breath hitched, already feeling his heart sink.  _No._

"There was a break-in. . . at the apartment."

 _No_ _. Please._

"By the time we arrived, it was too late."

_Not her._

". . . She's gone, Morgan. Your mother is gone."

Morgan couldn't tell when tears started rolling down his face, but he was frozen on the spot. He could barely catch his breath but somehow found the ability to speak. "Who did it?" His father was silent and averted his gaze to the floor. "Who did it!?" Morgan repeated with a shout, but he wasn't given an answer.

Instead, the man stepped away from the desk and proceeded to head into the hall. Morgan's gaze followed him and he couldn't help but think he was going to see her. "Dad," His voice was a plead as he followed him with shaky steps, but he was held back by the bodyguard. "Dad please! Let me see Mom!" He struggled to get out of the guard's hold until he eventually threw himself to the floor with another sob-filled cry. An offering hand appeared before him, and he lifted his head to see the brunette with an extended arm and the same sad yet softened gaze. Slowly, Morgan took his hand and allowed himself to be led away from the study.

Everything had been blocked out and his thoughts were filled with a multitude of questions with words that were caught in his throat. The tears didn't stop and he clung to his father tighter, the surrounding voices and figures becoming muffled and blurry. The last image of his mother was plastered in his brain, wondering just how and why she had died so quickly and whoever had done it was going to pay. He knew his day was going to be ruined somehow; that's how it was every day. But this took the cake for him; this was something he never expected so soon.

Morgan was led into a separate room where only a few people stood. One of them was a sniffling Samantha who had stayed in a corner, her eyes never leaving the covered body that was set across the centered table. Morgan felt his heart lodge in his throat as he stepped forward, feeling his father squeeze his hand as the brunette man slowly lifted the sheet.

Morgan's mother had been drained of all of the color from her face, her eyes were closed peacefully. Her front was splattered with blood that looked as though it had failed to have been cleaned off. Her hands had been folded neatly on top of her torso and her head had tilted to the side.

Morgan stumbled backwards and his father caught him before he could fall, not being able to take his eyes off of the woman no matter how much he wanted to. "Take a good look, Morgan," His father had begun to speak. "These are the sacrifices we have to make. Even if they're unexpected and unwanted." His voice was blank and dead, and despite his words, Morgan knew he was upset; that didn't mean they made him feel better. He felt his stomach lurch violently and he jerked away from the brunette to vomit into a nearby trashcan, shuddering and falling to his knees as a result. Morgan gripped handfuls of his hair with quiet sobs, feeling his chest tighten and his head spin. The room was spinning and blurry, and he was trying his best to breathe. There was a ringing in his ears that seemed to grow louder and louder, practically deafening him as he tried to block it out. Morgan could barely hear his father call out to him before he collapsed.

* * *

Morgan awoke with a shudder as he shot up with a gasp as tears were still running down his face. The sun began to set outside his window, showing an orange tint that blended well with the blue sky. Morgan released a quiet sigh and brought his knees to his chest and held himself close, wanting to forget everything that had transpired once lunch had ended. He curled into a tighter ball, wanting to forget his father's words, his mother's body, and the sheer mention of an emergency.

His bedroom door opened and his father stood in the doorway with a steaming mug and a somber look in his eyes. He closed the door behind him and stepped towards the blonde, handing him the mug and sitting on the edge of the bed. While the cup was warm, it did nothing to help the empty feeling in Morgan's chest. Regardless, he took the mug as a sign of thanks and took a small sip, turning his gaze away from the brunette and towards the window. The two of them sat in silence save for the occasional sniff from the older man. Apparently, he needed more time to come to the realization that his wife was truly gone.

Morgan pressed his knees against his chest and used his feet as a placeholder to set his mug while still keeping a hold of it. "Why did she have to die?" He knew it was a stupid question, but Morgan asked it anyway. He expected one of them to get hurt, his mother wasn't an exception. In the back of his mind, Morgan expected she would be killed to damage morale and lower it enough for a surprise attack. However, he felt that wasn't the case.

The brunette man slowly wrapped his arms around the teen's shoulders and pulled him in for a tight hug. Morgan was grateful for the embrace, but he didn't return it. Instead, he leaned into it with half-lid eyes averted away from the brunette and towards the window, squinting at the glare. He felt fingers run through his hair and whispers being fed into his ear, but Morgan wasn't comforted at all. Although, he would take the words from his father rather than anyone else.

His father pulled away moments after and brushed himself off. "I won't force you to eat, but there's a casserole in the oven if you feel hungry." He gave the teen another pat on the back before exiting the room without another word.

Morgan set the half-empty mug on his bedside table and saw his phone buzz from the surface. He peeked over to see Marshall's name flash from the screen and he felt his heart sink. He didn't know how to tell the other teen. But he knew if he didn't answer or didn't tell him, it would only make the Italian worry. He sighed and brought the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

_"What's wrong?"_

Marshall sounded worried, and Morgan knew the tone of his voice would give it away. He sniffed and wiped another tears before responding. "Sorry I haven't said anything. This emergency wasn't a small one."

_"What happened!? Are you okay!?"_

"I don't know," Morgan breathed out a sigh. "It's my mom. Well, she passed."

There was silence on the other end, but Morgan could take a guess as to what his reaction was. They had only talked a few times, but Marshall felt that close connection to her instantly; he probably still needed time to process it. There was another moment of silence before Marshall spoke again.  _"Stay there. I'm on my way."_

"Marsh, no." Morgan objected immediately.

 _"No nothing,"_ Marshall snapped.  _"I'd rather be with you in person than leave you alone to do God knows what. I'll be there soon."_ The line cut, and Morgan leaned back against the headboard of his bed, the phone slowly slipping through his fingers. Knowing his track record, Marshall could easily arrive within the next twenty minutes or so at the earliest. Morgan tilted his head slightly while deep in thought, letting his shoulders slump and watching the sun disappear.

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, there was a knock from his closet door. Morgan scampered off of the bed and barely had time to open the door before he was pulled in by the wrist. Marshall closed the door behind them and didn't waste time to slowly kiss the blonde. Marshall wiped his tears as Morgan grabbed his shoulders for support. "Marsh-"

"No, don't talk," Marshall nuzzled him sweetly and cupped one of his cheeks. "Let me distract you."

Morgan couldn't help but shudder at the other teen's lips trailing the side of his neck as his school tie slipped to the floor as he dug fingers into Marshall's hair. Marshall whispered soothing words into his ear, speaking in his father's language as the button's on Morgan's shirt slowly popped open one by one. He felt fingers being dipped into the back of his pants and lifted his head to see Morgan with shaky breaths. Marshall closed the distance between them one again, and Morgan was the one to speak. "Please. Help me forget. Just for tonight."

That was all the motivation Marshall needed before he pulled them both to the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"I hope Morgan will be okay." Ava skimmed through the notes Marshall had given her. The rain threw itself against the window beside her as she scribbled down the words in Marshall's notebook. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she glanced at him with concern, and Marshall had his gaze averted with pursed lips. Ava lifted an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

"Something doesn't feel right," Marshall replied. "Who would try to break into the Twilight mafia of all places? In broad daylight, no less."

"So, you're not surprised that she died?"

"Why would I?" Marshall finally faced her. "When you want to weaken your enemies, how else would you do it besides targeting their loved ones? It happened to me, it happened to you, and it happened to Mrs. Twilight." He squeezed his arms. "So no, I'm not surprised. It's not what I focus on."

"You're surprisingly calm about it too."

"I'm more weirded out than anything," Marshall shrugged. "The whole thing is fishy." After he was handed the notebook back, Marshall nodded as a sign of thanks before standing up and waving a quick goodbye to her. He awkwardly waved to her parents before practically scampering out of the door, wanting to avoid an earful fro Ava's father about how he put her in danger. He pulled the hood over his head and ran to the driveway, shoving the key into the car door and climbing inside. He sat for a moment, trying to catch his breath and spotting Ava's mother peek through the window of the front door. "What do they think I'm doing? Staking the house?" He rolled his eyes before he started the car's engine, giving a blank gaze towards the woman before he pulled out into the street.

The rain had begun to let up when he returned home, and he lifted an eyebrow at a familiar car parked next to his mother's. After rushing to the front door, he stepped inside the house and heard a faint clicking sound from the living room. Peering in the room, he saw Morgan spread against the couch with puffy eyes, hands fidgeting with a rubix cube, and a half-eaten pint of sherbet ice cream sat on the coffee table. Marshall sighed as he set his bag in the doorway and strode over to him, gently taking the cube away from him and bending over. Morgan blinked in surprise before averting his gaze with shame. Marshall shook his head and bent down to peck his lips, scooting him over so he could take a seat. Marshall held onto his arm with a nuzzle, and Morgan intertwined their fingers and leaned against him. "Sorry."

"No, don't be," Marshall pecked his cheek. "You're only grieving, _amore_. I'd be worried if you weren't." Morgan ran a hand through his hair with a sniffle and a slight nod. Marshall pursed his lips with a hum before he pulled away, glancing towards the nearby cabinet and smiling. He searched through the cabinet and his smile widened when he spotted a copy of  _Treasure Planet_ sitting near the front. He gave Morgan a wink before going back to sit beside him after opening the DVD player. "Don't think too much, okay? Just relax." When the movie started playing, Morgan nodded and forced himself to smile.

The mutiny scene had just passed when Marshall's mother had stepped into the room talking into a phone. "Yes, I'll be sure to tell him right away," She ended the call and turned to the teens. "Morgan, your father wanted me to tell you about the funeral arrangements." Morgan's light smile had faded into a frown as he kept his arm around Marshall's shoulders. Marshall paused the movie to not cause a distraction and he turned his attention to his mother. The woman released the breath she held in. "The funeral is Friday afternoon at 4:30. Your father has also said it is optional for you to attend the repast."

"I'll need to scarf down my sorrows, so I'll go," Morgan replied. "Are you sure you'll be okay with going? Everyone knows who you are. People are bound to question you."

"As much as I visit your mother, they shouldn't," Ms. Rose crossed her arms with furrowed brows. "But thank you for the warning."

"I want to pay respects to your mother, but that would blow our secret," Marshall shifted in his seat, further leaning into Morgan's hold. "And if it didn't, people would be suspicious of us. It would be too risky either way."

"I know. Thanks anyway." Morgan kissed the top of his head and gave him a sad smile before resuming the movie. Ms. Rose has returned to the kitchen with the thought of making dinner, no doubt knowing that Morgan was going to be spending the night once again.

* * *

Morgan thought he would vomit.

The visitation went as well as he and Ms. Rose expected; when she arrived, his father was the only person to greet her while everyone else began to whisper at her arrival. Once she kept close to Morgan, the guests began to question why she was there. Most of the mafia staff were silent save for the occasional reassurance to the guests that the woman was only here to pay her respects. The service was quiet as Morgan wanted, although he was surprised no one tried to cause a scene. He felt his father held a tight grip on his hand, but he didn't return it. Morgan wished his partner was with him; hell, he would have even been comforted with Ava's presence if she still wasn't recovering. Ms. Rose was the closest comfort he had.

Those who were attending the repast had traveled to the Twilight Headquarters. The unpleasant feeling in Morgan's chest didn't go away, and he had to wonder what else he was worried about. Someone was bound to make a scene and accuse Ms. Rose of being a spy for her lover's mafia. Even if they knew the truth, Morgan believed they would still try to pin the blame on her. What he didn't expect was for it to escalate much worse.

"Is all of this a little suspicious?" He heard one of his father's friends ask rather loudly so people could hear him.

"What do you mean?" Someone else piped up in the room.

"It's so odd how Gwen died," The man glanced down at his champagne glass. "Murdered in broad daylight after a break-in. She was in one of the most secured buildings in the city, yet she died so easily. I can only come to one conclusion," He lifted his gaze to the others in the room. "There's a traitor among us."

Everyone was silent and Morgan felt himself freeze, but he averted his gaze in thought. It would make sense with how weird the murder was. The realization was given to him after he had told Marshall what had happened, and it had him thinking maybe there was more to the incident than he thought.

"Obviously, we know who the main suspect is."

Ms. Rose was given a slight glare from the other associates in the room. She shrouded away to avoid everyone's gazes. Morgan's father stepped in front of her with a reassuring gaze. "Anaya has said time and time again she wants no involvement with Giovanni's mafia. She wouldn't have any information regarding Gwen's murder."

"Sir, you know defending her will cause people to think you're betraying us."

"I'm only speaking the truth," He replied. "Anaya is one of Gwen's closest friends. She is only here to pay her respects."

"But don't you find it strange, Seth?" His friend asked with a lifted eyebrow. "Even if she didn't have a part in it, you must find it odd how Gwen died so quickly. Just anyone could break into your apartment to kill her? With no security footage to help us find who did it?"

"Are you assuming I killed my wife?"

"Not you. Someone who could slip into the apartment easily. Or rather, someone who assisted in the murder." The friend's eyes immediately landed on Morgan, and Morgan's eyes widened. "Would you know anything about it, Mr. Heir?"

"That's absurd," Anaya placed a hand on the teen's shoulder and pulled him back. "Morgan was at school when this happened."

"Does that mean he didn't know, or was he faking his tears?"

"That panic attack wasn't fake." Seth muttered under his breath.

"Why would I want to kill my mom!?" Morgan shouted, and it brought the attention of people outside the room. A few guests stepped into the room at the outburst and couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Samantha had a lifted eyebrow as she dug into a small bowl of macaroni salad. Morgan balled his hands into fists and breathed in, composing himself momentarily. "I didn't kill my mom nor did I assist in her murder."

"But you are still a suspect."

"Morgan didn't kill Auntie," Samantha set her plate on a near table as she spoke up. "He wouldn't act this way if he did, and he's a terrible actor."

"Should we really be pointing fingers?" Anaya lifted an eyebrow and pulled Morgan closer. "The boy just lost his mother. This isn't the right time for this."

"Anaya's right," Seth spoke up again before turning to the woman. "I'm sorry about this. You're free to leave if you're too uncomfortable." Marshall's mother turned to Morgan once again, and she saw him with the most distraught look on his face; that was the cue to return home. She nodded to his father as a sign of thanks before slowly leading the young teen out of the room, guiding him towards the parking garage where she could take him to a safe place.

* * *

Marshall's eyes slightly lit up at the sight of his mother's headlights pulling into the driveway. He peeked through the curtains to get a better look at his mother and partner, but when the exited the car, Marshall saw a somber and scared look in Morgan's eyes. Immediately, he darted away from the window and towards the front door, pulling it open to let them inside. "H-How did it go?"

"Not bad, but it didn't go so well at the repast," His mother replied while hanging her coat. "One of Seth's friends began talking about who could have killed Gwen. He was saying there was a traitor."

Marshall pursed his lips and led Morgan to sit on the couch, helping him out of his jacket and blazer. "To be honest, it makes the most sense."

"Then, he started pointing fingers," She continued from the kitchen, and Marshall heard the faucet running. "He first said I had a part in it because of my relationship with you father, but then-"

"He put the blame on me." Morgan interrupted grimly. "He accused me of killing my mom." Morgan lowered his head, having a tighter grip on Marshall's hand. He scooted himself closer to the other teen and leaned against him. Marshall felt a nuzzle against his shoulder, and he couldn't help but return it with his own. A scowl grew on his face as he pecked Morgan's lips sweetly, and that only caused Morgan to hold onto him and cry. Marshall's heart sunk and he returned the tight hug with angry tears. He wasn't fond of Seth Twilight, but what gave an outsider the right to question the loyalty of the mafia? He was mad they even had the nerve to accuse Morgan or his father of murder. Marshall rubbed soothing circles along his back, whispering comforting words in his ear and he hugged him tighter. He found himself on his back with Morgan still pressed against him, but he didn't try to move.

From the corner of his eye, he saw his mother set a steaming mug on the coffee table next to them, giving them a quick smile before heading upstairs. Marshall nudged the sobbing teen off of him and handed him the mug. There were no words, just soft glances and the occasional kiss that was shared between them. There was momentary silence between them until Marshall was flipping through TV channels to see what would fill the space in the room. He settled on a cooking channel before snuggling up to Morgan with half-lid eyes.

About forty-five minutes later, Morgan muttered something under his breath and pressed light kisses against Marshall's jawline. Marshall sighed and tilted his head further, allowing Morgan to further have a hold on him. Although, the fingers that snuck in his pants told Marshall that what he wanted wasn't simple kisses. Morgan's hands slid further and Marshall was leaning away. He grabbed a hold of one or Morgan's wrists before breathing out "Let me close up down here. Then we'll go upstairs." A pause. Then Morgan pulled away. Marshall turned off the TV and stepped towards the kitchen to rinse out the almost-empty mug of tea. He turned off the lights and went back into the living room. Morgan eagerly stood, slamming a kiss onto Marshall's lips before he was led into his bedroom.

A condom wrapper was mixed with the clothes they had almost thrown across the floor, and Marshall had to wince at the sting of pain that came with every thrust Morgan gave him. It wasn't normally like this, but Marshall knew why. Morgan wasn't just grieving: he was angry, and he was relieving it the best way he could think of. The pleasured cries in his ears made him go faster. The sharp nails in his back made him go rougher. One hand was supporting his lower back, and the other was fisted into Marshall's hair and tugging. Marshall's cries had turned into sweet nothings in his father's language, and it continued that way until Morgan felt himself spasm.

Marshall ignored the mess on his own stomach and realized --through his blurry vision-- that Morgan was still inside him with his legs spread wide. He reached up to hold the hands that were currently caging his head, and Morgan's flushed face had sighed two words: "More. Please."

* * *

It was past midnight when Anaya went to see how the two teens were doing. After the faint groaning heard from down the hall, she figured they were blowing off steam the way she knew they would. But, it was quiet, and she had to wonder if they were taking a break or they had fallen asleep. She opened the door, half-expecting to be met with a similar sight she encountered four years prior.

The clothes were still across the floor, although both pairs of boxers seemed to be missing. There was a light scent in the air that she was all too familiar with. In the trashcan were a few used condoms with their respective wrappers, and under the covers was her son fast asleep with his sleeping lover on top of him, the outline of their legs tangled under the sheets. Anaya smiled and stepped towards the bed, bending down to brush hair our of her son's eyes. Marshall shifted with a moan, tightening the hold he had on Morgan's head. "Mom?"

"I just came to check up on you. Go back to sleep." Marshall nodded without opening his eyes and turned on his side, taking the other teen with him. Anaya kissed his temple before pulling away, muttering a quick goodnight before closing the door behind her and allowing Marshall to drift further into sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Marshall's eyes almost flew open at the sound of his alarm and he threw his arm towards his nightstand to shut it off. Morgan shifted with a moan, but Marshall ran fingers through his hair to lull him back to sleep. Marshall looked over at his phone, cursing to himself for never turning off his alarm for the weekends. The sun hadn't risen and his room was pitch black; he could barely make out the outline of Morgan on top of him. Marshall rubbed at his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, wanting to go back to sleep. However, his body said otherwise; once he woke up, it was hard for him to fall back asleep again.

Morgan shifted again and lifted his head with a groan. Marshall could barely see him, but he knew the face that was given to him. "What time is it?"

"5am. Go back to sleep."

Marshall felt the bed shift and noticed that Morgan had pulled himself away. He lifted an eyebrow in confusion before Morgan spoke again. "Can you turn a light on? I want to see you." Marshall nodded and leaned over towards his nightstand, tapping the base of his small lamp and a warm, orange glow illuminated the room. Immediately, Marshall could see the damage that was done: Morgan's eyes were still puffy, but the swelling had died down, his lips were red and swollen from the immense kissing, and a few red specks spotted his collarbone. There were a few dark red marks on his neck as well as nail marks on his shoulder blades. Marshall was sporting a bite on his left shoulder along with a few dark, purple marks on his neck, his hair was disheveled and messy, and there were a few light scratches on his chest and torso.

Marshall held himself upright on his elbows just as Morgan cupped his cheek. Marshall tucked a strand of hair behind one of Morgan's ears and pecked his lips. "Sorry if I hurt you last night."

"Morgan, stop apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"But-"

"Morgan." Marshall's voice was stern despite the wince he released when he sat up completely. After a moment, his expression became soft as he kissed the heel of Morgan's hand. "You don't have to apologize,  _amore_. It's alright. I promise."

Morgan's frown didn't fade, but he nodded regardless. Marshall bit the corner of his lip, trying to think of a way to cheer him up. He knew it would be hard; losing a family member wasn't easy to get over, especially with one as close as a mother. He kissed Morgan's hand again before pulling away, reaching for his phone sitting neatly on the bedside table and grabbing it with nimble fingers. Morgan lifted an eyebrow as Marshall patted the space next to him. He crawled next to the smiling Italian, and the two of them rolled over on their stomachs. Marshall pulled the covers over them before tapping on the Netflix icon on the small screen in front of them. He leaned on Morgan's shoulder as he tapped on a particular show the two of them enjoyed and soft music played from the phone's speaker.

* * *

It was 7am and the sun had finally risen, and the two teens were still huddled up under Marshall's sheets. There was a quiet laughter from Morgan's lips, and it caused pride to swell in Marshall's chest. He nuzzled the older teen sweetly before holding back a snort at one of the character's actions. Morgan kept an arm around his waist while Marshall kept a soothing hand on his lower back with the hand that wasn't holding his phone upright. Morgan's other hand was tucked neatly under his chin almost on the verge of becoming numb, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Marshall's ears perked up at the sound of a faint voice. He lifted his head with a confused eyebrow and it also caused Morgan to pull his eyes away from the phone. "What's wrong?"

"Stay here." Marshall pecked his cheek with comfort as he swung his legs off of the bed. Although, when he tried to stand, he fell to his knees with a thud, biting back the curse that threatened to erupt from his throat and replacing it with a low groan. Morgan peered over the bed with concern, but Marshall waved it off as he got back to his feet once again. "I'll be back. I promise."

Marshall eased his way into the hall, noticing the faint light coming from the bottom of the stairs and the voice had gotten more familiar to his ears. He found it odd that his mother was up so early, but as he inched closer to the staircase: She was talking to his father.

It was enough to make him freeze. What could he possibly want at that hour? Did he want Marshall to do another job that evening? Why didn't he wait? Marshall released the breath he was holding in and stepped closer to the staircase to hear his parents more clearly. He kept himself hidden; if he was spotted, God only knows what his father would say to him.

"Was anything said to you at Gwen's funeral yesterday?" The older Italian had his arms crossed with a frown. Marshall assumed he was unhappy about her going to a funeral associated with his enemy or he was worried about what people said to her.

Anaya held one of her arms shyly. "No, they didn't say anything to me. Although, I'm caught in a crossfire."

"What happened last night?"

"One of Seth's friends began questioning how Gwen died, and he was pointing fingers. The first one he pointed at was me, of course, because of my ties with you."

"But you have no ties," He argued. "Yes, you're  _mio amore_ , but you don't work for me. You don't know everything about the mafia or what we do."

"And I'd like to keep it that way," Anaya kept her gaze towards the ground. "Being your lover is already putting me in a bad spot." She felt a strand of hair being tucked behind her ear and felt her head being tilted upwards to face him. Marshall saw a somber look on his father's face, and it was an expression he hadn't seen in years, at least not in his presence. He kissed the woman sweetly, muttering a soft apology in her ear. Anaya wrapped arms around him, but the unsure look in her eyes never left. "Giovanni, I just need to know. Did you have anything to do with Gwen's murder?"

Marshall's eyes widened at the question. From what he was told, it would make sense if the traitor in the Twilight mafia was associated with his father's. But it left a bad taste in his mouth. Giovanni knew how close the women were, so he didn't think it would make sense for him to initiate the order. Although, what would make sense is if someone went behind his back. His father always made it clear who he didn't like, but he didn't seem to mind Gwen and Anaya's friendship, and if he didn't like it, he would have said something.

Giovanni sighed and held her close. "I had nothing to do with her death. I wouldn't go so far as to target his family. Yes, I would like to take him down a few pegs, but I wouldn't stoop to that level."

This was. . . rather new for Marshall. He always believed his father would do everything to weaken his opponents. Guess he had some moral limits. The adults were silent, and Marshall had half the mind to return upstairs before his father spoke again. "I'll come back tonight. I need Marshall to come back to HQ for the night."

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing involving him, I promise. I just want him to take observation."

Whatever that meant, Marshall had no idea, but he was more surprised at the tone of his father's voice. It wasn't stern like it normally was, but more calm and collected. He thought it was because of who he was talking to, but it still freaked him out. It sounded off to him, and he had to wonder if his father had been replaced with a nicer version of him. Giovanni gave her a kiss goodbye before making his way out the front door. He paused for a moment, hearing his father's car drive away, before returning upstairs.

When he opened his bedroom door, there stood Morgan with a surprised look on his face. "You were taking a while, and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm okay," Marshall cupped his cheek. "My father was here. And we need to talk." Morgan began to pale before Marshall led him back into the room. Marshall sat them both on the bed and held both of his hands soothingly. "So, my mom asked him if he had anything to do with your mom's death." Marshall felt his grip tighten; he knew Morgan was expecting him to say that the Vanitàs were a part of the murder and that he felt angry about the decision. What Morgan would do next was unknown, but nevertheless, he held himself together. "He didn't have anything to do with it, Morgan. Putting your father off the radar is one thing, but he wouldn't go after you or your mom to do it."

Morgan let out a relieved sigh, the color slowly coming back to his face. He leaned forward and rested his head on Marshall's shoulder. "I'm glad. I wouldn't know what to do if he was involved."

"Me neither," Marshall wrapped arms around him. "You wouldn't be the only one who would be angry, though."

"Oh, I know. Thank you for telling me."

Morgan pecked his cheek and pulled away with a smile. Marshall could see the pain still lingering in his eyes, and he could tell Morgan was trying to imagine if he said the opposite. Marshall squeezed his shoulders and gently pulled him off of the bed. "Come on. Let's get cleaned up. We can go catch a movie or something to get out of the house."

"I'd like that." Morgan smiled, more genuinely than before, and followed the other teen into the hall after Marshall had grabbed some clothes.

An hour and a half later, the two teens were waving goodbye to Anaya to spend the day for themselves. They climbed into Marshall's car, and Marshall never let go of his hand until he had to start the engine. Morgan relaxed his shoulders in the passenger seat with half-lid eyes, leaning his head against the window as Marshall drove away from the house. The radio couldn't drown out the silence between them, and it bothered them. But, neither of them knew what to say to start a conversation. Morgan opened his mouth as an attempt to apologize to the other, but held his tongue and averted his gaze.

It wasn't until he recognized the scenery around him where his eyes widened and he tore them away from the window. "Wait a minute. Are we-"

"Mhm."

Marshall smirked at his question and briefly locked eyes with him lovingly, but didn't elaborate on it further. He drove onto a separate path, and the closer they got to their destination, Marshall's smirk continued to grow until he backed into a small area. Winking at Morgan, he stepped out of the car and popped open the trunk, motioning for Morgan to sit next to him. Morgan chuckled and crawled over the backseat to join the Italian, swinging his legs from the back of the vehicle and peering out towards the open air.

Before them was a large lake that glistened in the morning sunlight surrounded by short-cut grass that lightly swayed because of the wind. Morgan leaned on the other teen's shoulder with content. "You know, I'm not surprised you took us here."

"It's the only place where we can think," Marshall replied as he intertwined their fingers. "Somewhere quiet and peaceful. Where no one could find us."

"The perfect place for us." Morgan nuzzled him with a smile and Marshall kissed the top of his head, feeling himself relax and closing his eyes. The wind blew in their faces, but neither of them seemed to care as the outside sounds surrounded them: chirps came from the trees, ribbits came from the lake, and the chattering of other insects were hidden in the grass. Marshall wanted to block everything out, only wanting to focus on Morgan's comfort. He squeezed Morgan's hand again, immensely hesitant on sending Morgan home for the night, but knowing the suspicion about them would only grow if he didn't.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

After a lunch date and a movie, Morgan decided it was time to face his family after the disaster that happened the night before. He had a feeling the longer he stayed away, the more suspicion would be brought onto him, and the last thing he wanted was to be further accused of killing his mother. The movie theater was only a block away from Twilight Headquarters, and despite Marshall's protests, Morgan said he would walk home. He kissed the Italian goodbye, waved, and proceeded to step across the pavement.

It was surprisingly warm, but Morgan knew it wouldn't last long. He kept his hands in his pockets and his head lowered to the ground. Anyone who passed him kept their distance either out of unease or respect. Morgan wasn't surprised to figure out his father had made Gwen's death public due to the few people who had stopped to give him their condolences. But he couldn't bring himself to care, not when he was still grieving. And he knew they weren't doing it because they truly felt bad for him; they only did it to stay on his good side.

Morgan honestly contemplated whether he should use the secret passages to escape into his room so he wouldn't have to run into anyone. He would hide in his room and never come out unless his father decided to go into his room for unknown reasons. But that wouldn't go well with the employees. Morgan knew they were all told of what happened at the repast if they weren't there themselves. Regardless of what he decided, he would be watched.

Before long, Morgan found himself at the front entrance and spotting the security guard lifting an eyebrow at his presence with pursed lips. Morgan bit the corner of his lip with a sheepish look, nodding to the man before he was promptly allowed inside. Immediately, whoever was in the lobby stopped to stare at him. Morgan immediately wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. He held in a breath, placed his hands behind his back, and stepped towards the elevator. He ignored the people's gazes, doing his best to not lock eyes with them. But they crawled up his skin and latched onto him, refusing to let go. Morgan shuddered and stepped faster until the elevator doors closed behind him. He slumped against the wall, watching the numbers change above him and feeling the pit in his stomach grow. He knew he didn't have to worry much about Samantha being suspicious; as she said the night before, Morgan wasn't a good actor, and even if he tried, people would be able to tell he was faking. He was more worried about his father; he couldn't read people's faces as well, and that could get him into trouble.

With shaky steps, Morgan exited the elevator and padded down the hall, balling his hands into fists and trying to stop his heart from bursting in his chest. He hadn't stayed at the Headquarters often since his mother passed, always crashing at Marshall's or Ava's places. He didn't want to be reminded of what happened; he didn't want to be in the place where his mother had been murdered. He didn't know if he would handle it well.

Morgan's heart froze at the sight of the caution tape still draped over the front door. He grimaced and let out a shaky breath, reaching forward to pull the tape to the side and pulling the door open.

He was surprised to find the place almost empty. Some of the furniture was missing, leaving a large, empty space of dusty hardwood flooring behind. It seemed as though no one had entered the apartment in a few days, and it gave off an eerie vibe to him. But that wasn't what Morgan was focusing on. The empty space made it easier for him to see it happen: his mother preparing a meal for herself and her husband when he came over for lunch. He could see the unknown assailant barge into the front door, weapon in hand, rushing in for the kill. He could see his mother turn around, wide-eyed and defenseless as he went in for the killing blow. He could hear her screams and cries for help before going silent.

It didn't exactly help that there was a large red stain in the entryway to the kitchen.

Morgan didn't know when tears began rolling down his face, but they brought him back to reality. His head jerked back at the sound of footsteps and spotted his father enter the room with a sad gaze. Seth's eyes widened at the sight of the teen as he closed the door behind him. "Morgan?"

"H-Hey Dad."

Morgan didn't try to smile; it wasn't worth it. He didn't run away from his father's embrace like he normally did, but he kept his gaze away from him. "I'm sorry for what happened last night," His father spoke softly. "I didn't expect him to accuse you and everyone else to follow suit."

"No, I should be sorry for not being around," Morgan kept his gaze to the floor. "I just. . . don't feel comfortable here knowing that she died here."

"It hasn't been just you," His father gestured to the room around him. "Since her death, I've been moving all of our things in a different apartment down the hall. I knew it would be hard for any of us to be here after something so tragic."

That would explain the emptiness, and Morgan couldn't help but agree. He had to admit, it would be a bit difficult because it was where he grew up. It was hard leaving that behind, but he would rather start fresh than stay in the flat where his mother died.

Seth took his hand and guided him out of the empty room and down the hall to where a door was cracked ajar. Morgan followed his father inside and spotted all of the missing furniture that had yet to be properly aligned. The main area was covered in carpet instead of hardwood flooring. While it was smaller, Morgan didn't mind. The first thing he wanted to do was check for secret passageways. For some reason, his father had no idea they existed. The only reason Morgan knew was because his grandfather had showed him a few before his passing a year ago. Since then, he had discovered more as time went on.

Seth leaned against the back of the couch with a sigh. "I know your mother's death is odd, but I believe everyone is just looking for someone to blame."

"So, you don't think I killed Mom?"

"Of course not," Seth replied. "If there was a chance that either of us were involved, we would have no knowledge of it. But I highly doubt it. We're not the ones responsible."

"Do you know who is?" Morgan crossed his arms with a lifted eyebrow, unsure if his father had really found the culprit or he was just spit-balling. He was afraid of what his father might say since he confidently believed there were no traitors in the mafia.

His answer was as expected as ever, but that didn't make Morgan less nervous. "Who else would come after my family except the Vanitàs?"

Before he realized it, Morgan immediately protested. "They didn't do it." His head shot up to face his father with worry.

"And how do you know that?"

Morgan froze on the spot, wishing he kept his mouth shut. He brought his gaze back to the carpet in hopes of thinking of a good excuse. If he didn't act quickly, the situation could get worse. "I just. . . have a gut feeling. Seems like something they wouldn't do, right?"

"A gut feeling won't help us figure out who killed your mother."

Morgan expected that answer too, but he was glad his father hadn't caught onto him. He crossed his arms with a light sigh as Seth placed a hand on his shoulder. "But we won't worry about them yet. For now, let's just focus on adjusting without your mother." He stepped down the hallway and left Morgan to glance around the room. He had his hands in his pockets and he stepped towards the window towering over the rest of the city. Morgan lifted his head towards the sky, wondering if his mother was watching him from the afterlife. He kind of doubted it, but it was a nice thought to have, and it put him at ease.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Morgan had to hold back a snort because of an orange leaf that landed on Marshall's cup of strawberry ice cream. The snort turned into a loud wheeze when Marshall gave him a glare and flicked the leaf to the ground and ate out of the ice cream anyway. The two were enjoying the afternoon to themselves after another school day had ended, neither of them wanting to go home just yet. The air had gotten chillier because of the changing seasons, and the scenery around them had gotten more orange and yellow.

"Hey, are you going to Mickey's Halloween party?" Marshall asked with the spoon still in his mouth.

"Why wouldn't I?" Morgan asked with a smile. "It's the one thing to look forward to every year. And she throws the best parties."

"I thought you would," Marshall smirked. "Ava and I were planning on having matching costumes."

"And what are you two doing?"

"You'll have to wait and see." The Italian winked before he stood from the bench and threw the empty cup in a nearby trashcan. He pulled Morgan off of the seat before beginning to lead him out of the park. The people who walked by them gave them confused glances and began to whisper, and Marshall was going to pretend he didn't see a photographer trying to follow them. Morgan quickly caught on and pulled the other teen into the courtyard quick enough to potentially escape their follower. They sped their way through the crowds, looking back to make sure the photographer was out of their line of sight before hiding behind a building.

Morgan shot a glare over his shoulder. "Do you think he took any?"

"With the way he was running, doubt it." Marshall panted while looking around the corner to make sure they lost the man for good. He sighed with a sad gaze. "We should probably go. Who knows how many more there are."

The response made Morgan frown, but he nodded regardless. Marshall cupped his cheek and pecked his lips. The kiss lingered longer than he wanted due to Morgan's arms not letting him go, but he didn't mind. When they pulled away, Morgan's grip stayed on his waist. He gave Marshall a final peck on the cheek before letting go and beginning to step in the other direction. "I'll come over later. Promise."

"You can come by whenever you want." Marshall smiled before stepping down the short staircase leading to a nearby parking lot. He made sure Morgan was out of his line of sight before pulling out his phone. Marshall scrolled through his list of contacts, finding the name he was looking for before bringing the phone to his ear. "Hey, there's been a slight issue. Can you come get me?"

* * *

The following week, the student body was ecstatic about the upcoming Halloween party. A ravenette girl with pale skin and freckles was skipping through the halls passing out invitations to whoever came in her way. She handed out the small envelopes with a happy smile on her face, and her eyes lit up once she spotted the familiar trio step around the corner. The girl sped over to them with a grin. "I could never forget about our Romeo and Juliet." She said happily.

"Thanks, Mickey," Ava responded with a smile. "We wouldn't miss it for the world. Have you figured out your costume?"

"That's a surprise," Mickey pressed a finger against her lips with a giggle. "Hope to see you all there!" She skipped off down the hall.

"What are you dressing as, Morgan?" Ava asked with her hands behind her back.

Morgan shrugged while peeking at the envelope. "I might do something simple this year. Probably a werewolf or something. I'm not sure yet."

Marshall pressed a finger to his chin in thought before a grin spread across his face. "Sounds hot."

Morgan flushed and Ava couldn't help but giggle. "You'd say that regardless of what he wore."

"I'm supposed to." The response made them laugh as they stepped to their respective classrooms. Once he was seated, Marshall pulled out a small notebook and began to flip to it, eager to get to a specific page. Ava lifted an eyebrow at his expression, letting her pencil quietly tap on her desk. Marshall took another glance at the teacher to make sure his back was turned before sliding the notebook to Ava with the page corner being folded so she knew what to look at. Once she flipped the page, a smile appeared on her face and she turned to see Marshall nodding with a seductive wink. She slide the notebook back to him before turning her attention back to the black board.

* * *

Mickey lifted an eyebrow at the two who arrived on her front door Halloween afternoon. She stepped aside to allow Marshall and Ava in the large room that seemed to be partially decorated with skulls and orange streamers. "You guys are super early. I didn't expect anyone to come by until after 6."

"Well, we had to for his costume," Ava explained. "If we left while he was wearing it, his mom wouldn't let him out of the house."

"What kind of costume is it?" Ava beckoned her closer, and Mickey leaned in with a confused gaze. After a light whisper in her ear, her eyes lit up and she shot an excited glance towards the Italian. "I can't wait to see it! You'll be the star of the party looking like that!"

"The best part is no one would expect it." Marshall smirked with confidence. "I can't wait to see their faces. Especially Morgan."

"Then I won't say anything," Mickey gestured them to the stairs. "There's a spare bedroom on the right. Feel free to camp out there if you want."

"Thanks, Mick." Ava nodded to her before the two of them headed up the stairs and down the hall. Mickey lifted an eyebrow and had to wonder if they were both changing in the same room. But she wasn't going to but in and question them. She turned her attention back to the other room where most of the party would be, hoping to get everything ready so she could have time to change.

It wasn't long before the room was filled with other students and friends in costumes that ranged from simply to complex. The light flashed as a compilation of Halloween songs and remixed rang out through the large speakers. Some people ate, drank, and talked with their friends while others were on the dance floor regardless of whether they were good at it or not.

Morgan was leaning against the wall with crossed arms, reaching up to straighten one of the black wolf ears he had clipped into his hair. A long, black tail was hanging from his back belt-loop and was pressed against the wall, glancing down at his black and brown attire and reaching down to make sure his boots were tied. He looked around at the other party-goers and looked at his phone to see if Marshall had arrived. He remembered Ava saying they had arrived before the party started so they could get ready, but as far as he knew, he hadn't seen either one of them.

"You look lost." Morgan jumped at a familiar voice and turned to see Mickey staring at him with concern. She was wearing a mouse getup that went well with her complexion. She had her hands behind her back and she had leaned in with a tilted head.

Morgan shook his head. "It's nothing. Just wondering where Marshall is. Haven't seen him all afternoon."

Mickey blinked in realization before she smiled. "He'll be here soon. You won't want to miss it."

Morgan was confused, but he nodded regardless and Mickey skipped off towards her group of friends. He decided to head over to the punch bowl --praying it wasn't spiked-- before getting himself a small cup and stepping away to let others head to the table. He took a few sips, talked around with a few old friends of his, and eventually letting himself relax.

Immediately, the room went silent. Morgan noticed everyone's gazes were at the staircase. When he followed them, his jaw dropped to the floor.

Ava stepped down the stairs slowly with a smirk. She had on a long-sleeved white dress that reached to her knees and was splattered with fake blood, black fingerless gloves, and black boots with a low heel. She also had a deep shade of eye shadow, and the normal black bow in her hair had been replaced with a similar looking white one, but it did little to keep her hair pulled together. But she knew no one was looking at her; everyone's eyes were on Marshall.

Marshall stepped behind her with a wide grin. He wore a short, white pullover cloak with the pointed hood perched on top of his head --along with the fake blood splatters all over the fabric-- and had on black fingerless gloves. When he lifted his arms to stretch, the cloak lifted to reveal he was wearing a sleeveless, black crop top underneath that completely exposed his midriff. He also had on a pair of black shorts made out of spandex that almost went to his knees, and he had on a pair of black high-top converse. His eye shadow was more smeared and looked as though it was running down his cheeks.

Whatever juice Morgan had was spilling from his mouth back into the cup he held, and his face immediately went red.

Mickey was the first to speak. "Marsh, you look great! I told you you would be the star of the show!"

"Thank you. Thank you." Marshall bowed and Ava couldn't help but giggle. He then turned to the others still staring at him. "What?"

"I-I didn't expect you to wear that, Rose." One of the students spoke up.

"It's just. . . not like you at all."

"Then you don't know him," Ava crossed her arms with a lifted eyebrow. "Plus, you see how he is around Morgan. He's not who you think he is." A few of the students mumbled to themselves, admitting she had a point before the music started back up again. Slowly, the rest of the guests continued whatever they were doing before Marshall arrived, and soon, the eccentric vibe had returned.

Marshall's eyes lit up at the sight of the other teen and he padded towards him with a smile. He and Ava couldn't help but snort at his expression, and Marshall wiped the dripping juice from his chin. "So, what do you think,  _amore_?" He wrapped arms around Morgan's neck and pecked his cheek sweetly. Morgan couldn't help but stutter and the two of them bust out laughing as a response.

Ava took the cup from his fingers and decided to drink it in his place. "I like your ears. Surprised you got them on right."

"T-Thanks." Morgan stammered, his eyes still trailing up and down Marshall's figure trying to take in exactly what he was looking at. Marshall rolled his eyes and pulled him in for a kiss. That seemed to snap him out of it as he responded with wrapping arms around him and pulling him close. Ava glanced at her wrist, pretending to check an imaginary watch with a deadpan look as the kiss lingered on more than she wanted. When Morgan pulled back, the blush on his face had mostly faded. "You look. . . Whoa."

"I take it you like it."

"I like anything that's on you."

Marshall snorted and pushed him away playfully and it caused Morgan to grin.

The three had spent a good amount of their time at the buffet table talking to their other peers. Some of them were still at a loss for words regarding Marshall's costume, but they held their tongues instead of questioning him. They were also equally surprised at how much he smiled as they normally saw a deadpan expression on his face. In the end, they decided to accept it as Ava had suggested.

Eventually, Ava separated from the duo to hang out with a few other friends of hers, and Marshall pulled his lover towards the large living room. "Dance with me."

"What?"

"Come on. It'll be fun." Marshall pulled him towards the archway where they were greeted with a crowd of people partying and grinding away at each other. Marshall led him towards a less crowded spot near a corner and pulled him in. "Don't worry about them. Focus on me."

"But-"

Morgan felt his chest press against Marshall's back with his hands on his waist. Marshall cupped his cheek from behind and pulled him in. "Just move with me." He whispered seductively.

Morgan's ears turned red and he nodded, still self-conscious about the people around him. But when Marshall's hips started rolling into his own, it was completely thrown away. Marshall smirked at how easy it was to work him up. He felt Morgan breathe hotly in his ear and a few fingers dip inside the waistband of his shorts. Marshall gently pulled them away back to his torso. "Not yet."

Morgan nipped the shell of his ear. "Tease."

"You enjoy it."

"Marsh." Morgan's tone was more stern and desperate and he nipped the spot where his neck met his shoulder. Marshall bit back a light moan and he rolled his head back on Morgan's shoulder, watching him smirk from the corner of his eye. "That's payback."

”Ass.” Marshall spat in response but continued to grind against him anyway. Normally, it was hard for him to keep himself collected, but that was hard to do with Morgan, especially when there was something large and firm pressed against his backside.

Morgan pulled him close and nuzzled his shoulder, muttering sweet nothings and pressing soft kisses against his neck. Marshall felt himself relax and roll his head to the side. The music from the party returned to his ears and he glanced around to see the surrounding peers still minding their business. He spun around and wrapped his arms around Morgan’s neck to pull him close. “I’ll text you after I drop off Ava tonight,” He spoke softly. “We can continue if you’re still up for it.”

”Can’t wait.” Marshall grinned and pecked his lips before scampering off to go find their friend. Morgan shook his head with a smile and shuffled through the crowd to head to the kitchen.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Marshall sat with his arms crossed over his chest and was slouched back in the leather chair in the main conference room. There were five other men sitting at the table around the room, and they were giving each other confused glances. Marshall had to lifted an eyebrow. He was planning on going home with Morgan for the day until his father called him in for a meeting but left out the details on what exactly it was about. He grumbled and looked back at his phone with furrowed brows. Apparently, he hadn't told anyone else what the meeting was about, and a few of the men were mumbling to themselves about whether they should leave.

The double doors opened and Giovanni stepped through them with his hands behind his back. A secretary stepped in behind him holding a document in his arms, and Marshall had to wonder what it was all about. Giovanni sat at the head of the table, and the secretary set the folder in front of him. "I called you all here to have a discussion about a traitor among us."

The rest of the men whispered among themselves, but Marshall almost fell out of his chair as his eyes bulged out of his head. He felt his heartrate pick up immediately and he gripped the armrest of the chair. Now he knew; they were found out, and he would be called a traitor in a room full of people who already had doubts about him. There was a lump in his throat that he tried to swallow, but it only made him nauseous. He tried to calm himself down to not raise awareness if his father was referring to him.

"Sir, who exactly are you referring to?" One of the men asked.

Giovanni opened the file and pulled out a small stack of papers held together with a paper clip. He adjusted it so the others in the room could see the profile attached to it. "Ludwig Reichtum. As you know, he's a valuable asset to our organization. For a while now, we've had reports of suspicious activity from his party. After several observations, we can conclude that he is also in league with the Twilights."

Marshall was a bit taken back at his response, but he slumped forward in relief. Ludwig's name wasn't new to his ears, but he had never met the man himself. And since his father wasn't the kind of person who would want to show off his family all the time, he was pretty sure Ludwig didn't know what he looked like.

He brought a finger to his chin in thought as the rest of the group continued to talk. "So, what is our next move, sir?"

"Simple. We get rid of him, and make sure he never contacts the Twilights." Giovanni talked calmly and kept his hands folded on the table. The man closest to the stack lifted the first page before he continued. "Tonight, he will be hosting a party at his residence, and of course, he expects me to attend. Unfortunately, I won't be going as I have another issue that has top priority, but I trust one of you here to be able to take care of the job for me."

The men glanced at each other with lifted eyebrows. They were unsure whether they should go or suggest another person. Giovanni gave them all a stern gaze and turned to the secretary who had remained silence. For the whole conversation. Giovanni sighed and folded his hands back together and shook his head.

” _Padre_ ,” All eyes turned to the teen who decided to speak up. “Let me go. Ludwig doesn’t know what I look like. But I won’t be going as your representative. We don’t want him catching onto us, do we?”

Giovanni lifted an eyebrow. “And what do you have in mind, boy?”

* * *

At sunset, Giovanni waited patiently at Anaya’s home, lifting an eyebrow as he sat next to the woman on the couch. Anaya glanced over towards the staircase. She had an idea as to what her son had come up with, and when the thought came to her mind, she giggled. Giovanni looked at her in confusion. “What is it?”

”It’s nothing,” She responded. “I’m just surprised you agreed to let him do this.”

”I’m only curious to see what he will do.” Giovanni replied with an arm around her shoulder. She hummed and leaned against him with a mug of tea in her hands. The two heard footsteps from the stairs, and they turned around to spot the teen peer at them with a smirk. Anaya smiled and Giovanni's jaw dropped to the floor.

Marshall had on a dark red, sleeveless turtleneck dress that reached down to his knees and a pair of black fingerless gloves. He had on a pair of low-heeled black shoes, and on top of his head was a wavy, jet black wig that brushed passed his shoulders. He also had on some foundation and lip gloss spread across his face. He twirled a couple times before curtsying, and his mother gave a light applause.

Giovanni was the first to speak. "So, this is how you're going undercover?"

"He won't expect it,  _Padre_ ," Marshall replied. "How will he know it's me when I  _sound like this_?" He said the last few words in a more feminine tone that threw off the older man.

"Well, I think you look lovely, Marshall," Anaya commented with a smile. "You'll blow them all away." Marshall grinned before he stepped towards the front door. He pulled a lock of hair behind his ear and glanced at his father expectantly. Giovanni kissed the woman goodbye before following the teen out of the house.

The drive was shorter than Marshall expected. He pulled his dress down so it wouldn't ride up his legs. He peeked in the mirror to make sure everything looked all right on his face. Giovanni peered at him from the corner of his eye. "So, what made you decide to do this?" He asked hesitantly.

"No it's not because I'm gay," Marshall saw him flinch and he rolled his eyes. "I just decided to use this opportunity to indulge in something I enjoy."

"Which is being feminine?"

"Which is being able to wear what I want without being yelled at for it." Marshall shot him a glare before shifting his eyes back to the mirror to brush hair out of his eyes. He nodded and put the mirror away. He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

When they pulled up to the large mansion, Marshall peered up at the lights and pedestrians that flooded the front doors. The invitation was handed to him from the corner of his eye and his father spoke. "I assume you know what to do."

"Yes, _Padre_." Marshall grabbed the invitation before slipping out of the car. He nodded to the man before closing the door and stepping towards the small crowd. He adjusted his earpiece before showing the security guard at the front the envelope, and he was let in without a second of hesitation. He blinked to adjust his eyes because of the brightness in the room given by the giant chandelier in the middle of the ceiling. He glanced around to see the equally dressed men and women that fluttered through the room. He moved into a less crowded area in order to let the other guests into the room, and he stepped to an empty space next to the wall.

 _"The men have eyes on you."_ His father's voice spoke through the earpiece. Marshall lifted his head to the glass ceiling and spotted a couple dark figures on the edges. He nodded as Giovanni continued.  _"They will tell me your exact movements throughout the night. I'll be on the lookout when the mission is complete."_

"I understand." Marshall pulled away from the wall and began to peer around the room. He figured Ludwig would want to make a grand entrance instead of being on the floor talking with the guests. He stepped around as he was offered a drink from a servant. Marshall nodded as a sign of thanks and brought the glass to his lips, not caring if the contents were alcoholic or not. He furrowed his brows with a pout, and he looked back towards the men on the roof with a shrug.

"Aren't you a little too young to be here, miss?" A middle-aged man approached him with a champagne glass and a lifted eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure you need an invitation to attend."

"I do have an invitation," Marshall replied, putting forth his feminine tone. "My father had other business and asked me to go in his place."

"And who is your father?"

"I'm not obligated to tell."

"Oh come now. We don't have to be strangers."

Marshall didn't respond and sipped on his glass. He shifted his gaze back to the roof. He hoped the men would see the look in his eyes and act accordingly to get him out of the situation. The last thing he wanted was to be flirted with by a lower-class businessman. Marshall avoided his gaze and kept his eyes on the roof.

He saw a flash of blue and whipped his head around to see a familiar sight of a poorly styled brown wig. He blinked in surprise when the head turned, and he was met face to face with Morgan talking with a few other guests. Marshall's eyes lit up and he turned back to the man. "Excuse me. There are other guests to talk to."

"Of course. Don't be afraid to speak with me again."

Marshall had to hide his grimace before he spun on his heel and darted towards the other in question the moment Morgan padded away towards the window. He had to put his pounding heart at ease as he approached Morgan's side quietly. "Lovely night isn't it, Mr. Montague?"

Morgan's head jerked towards him with wide eyes. Almost immediately, they softened as he smiled wide. "Good to see you, Miss Capulet. It's odd to find you in a place like this. What's the occasion?"

Marshall glanced around at the nearby guests and leaned in close to Morgan's ear. "We should talk somewhere more private, Mr. Montague. There are too many lingering ears."

Morgan followed his gaze and nodded. He peered around for a more empty spot before he took the other teen by the wrist and guided him along. Marshall took another quick glance towards the roof as his father's voice echoed in his ear.  _"Marshall, where are you going?"_

He didn't answer as Morgan led him to a dark space under the staircase, and Marshall realized they were in a spot where the men couldn't see him. He smiled as Morgan spoke again. "So, care to explain why you're being tailed by your own men?"

"The host was an associate of my father's and is now considered a traitor because he's also working for yours," Marshall replied with crossed arms. "So, I'm here to take care of him."

He didn't need to explain what he meant, but Morgan just shrugged with pursed lips. He didn't seem to care, and Marshall noticed he kept his hands on his waist. "Well, I wish you luck." Marshall smiled before Morgan pulled him in for a kiss. Marshall hooked his arms underneath his shoulders and pulled him close.

_"Marshall, where are you?"_

He continued to ignore his father's voice as the kiss deepened. He pulled away when one of Morgan's hands snuck under the dress. "Mm, wait." He pulled Morgan's hand away and lifted the skirt high enough to show a sheathed knife strapped to a garter.

"Even when you're here to kill someone, that's pretty hot."

Marshall snorted and pushed him away as his father continued to bark in his ear. "We have to cut this short.  _Padre_ is wondering where I am."

"Call me when you get home," Morgan pecked his cheek. "You might need help getting out of that dress." His sultry tone of voice caused Marshall to shudder with arousal, and he slammed their mouths together one final time before parting. He pressed a finger to his lips with a wink before darting out of the dark space. He winked at the roof before stepping away back towards the middle of the floor.

"And what are you looking for, young lady?" A German accent reached his ears, and Marshall whipped around to see a man in his 40s with slick-back blonde hair. His eyes widened at the similar appearance to the profile. He wasn't expecting Ludwig to arrive anytime soon.

_"This is. . . strange of him."_

Giovanni sounded confused, and Marshall couldn't blame him. He shook off his surprised expression before speaking. "Nothing at all. Although, I'm surprised to find you here, _Signore_ Reichtum." He made sure to thicken his accent; there was an unsettling feeling in his chest, and he didn't know where it came from.

"I wanted to spend the night talking to the guests. It's not my style to be more casual, but it best to try new things."

"I agree."

"May I ask what your name is?"

"Capulet,  _Signore_ ," Marshall curtsied with a lowered head. "Juliet Capulet."

"Ah, named after one of Shakespeare's finest plays I see," Ludwig couldn't help but smile. "I take it your family is full of scholars."

"There's no need for the flattery, _Signore_ ," Marshall responded. "I've been meaning to speak with you all evening. Unfortunately, there seem to be many eavesdroppers around us."

"I agree. Shall we move somewhere private?" Ludwig gestured to the large staircase where there were already guests stepping up and down between the floors. Marshall nodded and followed the man towards the second floor. Across the room, he gave Morgan a look, signaling for him to not follow in case their cover gets blown. Morgan nodded and turned back to continue talking to the small party he was with in the corner. Giovanni was warning him in his ear and he only shrugged as he was led through the east wing. Marshall kept his distance, but was close enough for Ludwig to not gain suspicion of him. He pulled on the back of his skirt nervously and bit the corner of his lip.

The warning bells went off in his head as he was led into a dimly-lit bedroom, and the door closed behind him. "May I ask why we're here,  _Signore_?"

"You wanted a private place to speak, my dear," Ludwig responded as he stepped towards the window. "So we could have a real conversation."

"I don't understand."

"You can drop the act, Miss Capulet. Or should I say, Mr. Vanità."

Marshall stiffened, and his hand slipped under the skirt to reach for the knife. "I knew this was too good to be true." He spoke in his normal tone.

"Ah, so you expected this," Ludwig replied smugly. "What I want to know is why would Giovanni send his only child instead of confronting me himself? Seems pretty cowardice, don't you think? Or would you rather continue being his lapdog?"

"I just took the opportunity." Marshall moved towards the man who still had his back towards the teen. The knife was clutched between his fingers and his footsteps were inaudible on the carpet. "I don't care what  _Padre_ wants. But if I'm to inherit the mafia, I would rather have it filled with loyal men and not traitors."

"That's only if you live that long, boy." In a flash, Ludwig spun on his heel and pulled Marshall's arm behind his back and pinned the armed wrist at his side. Marshall grunted from the slight sting of pain as Ludwig leaned close to his ear. "Don't tell me you thought it would be this easy."

"I didn't," Marshall retorted before he smirked. "But you forget who I am." His smirk widened when he felt a grunt of pain behind him. Marshall pulled himself away and saw blood seep through the older man's thigh. Ludwig limped forward to grab him, and Marshall spun to the side and charged forward. He threw one of Ludwig's arms out of the way and plunged the knife into his chest. Ludwig spat up blood and glared at the teen, but Marshall only sunk the blade further until the light left his eyes. Marshall pulled away and allowed the body to fall backwards on the floor, and he released the sigh he was holding in. "I'll sneak out the back," He spoke in the earpiece. "People saw me leave with him, and if I come back without him, they'll start asking questions."

_"Don't be reckless."_

Surprisingly, it didn't take him long to reach the back entrance of the estate, and he found three black cars waiting for him, one of which being his father's. He slipped the knife back in its sheath before sprinting towards the car and climbing in the passenger seat. Marshall leaned back with closed eyes and stretched with a loud groan. "Did he suspect you?"

"Oh, he knew from the beginning," Marshall responded. "And he called you a coward for not confronting him yourself."

"I see," Marshall pulled on his skirt. "Well, it was good we decided to take care of him now rather than later. You did good tonight, Marshall."

Marshall blinked at him in surprise. "Whoa. You actually praised me."

"Am I not supposed to?"

"You don't make a habit out of it is what I mean." Marshall crossed his arms with a huff and turned to the window. He stifled a yawn and had to shake off the light buzz from the alcohol. He pulled out his phone to text Morgan and tell him he had left and was on his way home. He leaned his head against the window with half-lid eyes and shifted in his seat. It took Marshall a moment to realized how exhausted he was, and all he wanted to do was relax and not be bothered for the rest of the night. He just wondered how long he had before Morgan kept him awake all night.


End file.
